Netherworld: Adaptation
by RoyalStarlord
Summary: The Overlord of Stilwater decides to raise some hell. Sequel to Netherworld vs Stilwater. Warning: May contain blood, gore, coarse language, violence, drug use, suggestive themes and implied sex. Might not ever end, though that might change. Critique is welcome. (Hiatus)
1. A Long Awaited Sequel

**A/N: I figured that I kept everyone waiting long enough. Sequel to my previous fanfiction crossover, Netherworld vs Stilwater. s/11004571/1/Netherworld-vs-Stilwater**

* * *

Chapter 1: A long awaited sequel

The Overlord sat upon his obsidian throne. His power was overwhelming. His will, uncontested. His reign, unfair and evil. Once upon a time, he used to live in a world of fantasy that was filled with many magical fairy tale creatures and mystical spellcraft. His father, nearing his death upon contracting a deathly illness, summoned a powerful magic that transported his son into a different realm, and placed a spell of sleep so that 1,000 years later, the inheritor would rise again and don the title of Overlord.

When the new Overlord emerged from his magically induced slumber, he emerged into a world he did not understand, but quickly adapted to. He found himself amidst a city set in the modern age, in a time after the age of industry where technology was commonplace. The Overlord fought and dominated within this new realm, and claimed many lives that had once dared to stand in his way. His greatest challenge was facing off against the notorious and infamous criminal gang known as The Third Street Saints. Their ignorance for authority was evident upon their view over The Overlord's authority. They fought against him, but failed. The modernity of the city of Stilwater had no means of protection against The Overlord's minion horde, his fiery and mind rending magic, and giant axe that can cleave a car engine in twain with a single strike.

The Overlord and the leader of The Saints fought with one another till the Saint's leader saw that there was no mortal means for The Saint's to be able to fight against The Overlord. As a defiant gesture, The Saint's leader refused to submit to The Overlord's rule or his enslavement by way of suicide, and instant cremation.

After the hollow victory over the control of Stilwater, The Overlord instigated several laws that, in short, screwed the entire population of the city. The homeless problem was solved, but it involved killing and converting the squatters into lifeforce. Nearly all jewelry stores no longer sold jewelry made of bronze, silver, gold and diamonds, since much of the precious metals and minerals were stolen/monitored. Instead, the jewelry stores resorted to using steel with bronze, silver, and gold enamel paint, which The Overlord forced them to sell at the same cost in relation to other jewelry competitors outside Stilwater. Instead of diamonds, the jewelry stores were forced to use cubic zirconia gems or glass. Stilwater's police forces, as well as much of the residents of Stilwater, had been commanded to become a new type of peacekeeping force known as 'watchers'. The Watchers are the victims of The Overlords mind rending magic, people who had become enslaved that would actively survey the residents of Stilwater and report to their master of any goodly instances or breaking of the laws The Overlord made. They don't report to their master when any other law not pertaining to The Overlord's assets is broken, like one citizen murdering another citizen. But they will report to him when a citizen murders an enslaved citizen or a watcher, for example.

The Federal government of the United States did everything they could to keep The Overlord a secret to the rest of the country and the world, using media blackout techniques and restricting internet searches, even doing everything possible to make sure that the state of Michigan and its lake to seemingly forget that Stilwater even existed. But even then, The Overlord of Stilwater was not a man to be ignored, as he was reported to be seen on other parts of the country, regarded by government officials to be nothing more than a hoax on several occasions. But it was when 'The Overlord Interviews', that had became incredibly popular over various television talk shows, broke the system of silence that the government had tried to keep under wraps. They had no idea how The Overlord was in New York, New York in one moment, and then was somehow in Los Angeles, California in the next half-hour.

This had prompted a media storm that was unable to be contained, and soon, Stilwater and the overlord that controlled the secret city was a topic of discussion. Eventually, the government had conceded that they had made a deal with said Overlord in the past. The deal was to trade livestock and funds for the safety of the non-enslaved citizens of Stilwater on a monthly basis. Despite the media backlash, much of the attention for all audiences everywhere were focused on the unusual 'minions'.

Soon enough, the little minions eventually got their own spotlight in the internet video series known as 'Minion Movies', which mainly focused on four minions called Mud, Flames, Snake and Heals, which mainly focused on them breaking various objects and killing 'death row prisoners' in 'unique and interesting ways'. Over 15 videos were made, all were flagged and taken down due to 'gratuitous violence' and 'approval of illegal activity'. However, another internet video series was created afterwards, called 'Minion Show', which consisted of several minions and whatever kind of skit they wanted to show to the world. Many of the 'Minion Show' videos were also flagged and taken down due to 'gratuitous violence' and 'approval of illegal activity'. After that, a website was created to dedicate all the flagged and taken down videos, plus a new series, simply called 'Minion Games'. Minion Games had Mud, Flames, Snake and Heals give commentary to four teams of minions who would cause property damage, steal loot and money, and take the 'shiny thing' to the respective team's goal. No score was kept, but generally whichever minion ended up getting the 'shiny thing' in their goal first ended up winning. A type of beer that the minions make became popular due to one of the 'Minion Show' videos that explained how minion-made beer was made.

The aptly named 'Minion Brew' is a mushroom beer that claimed an ABV rating of 66%. Despite the eventual production and sales distribution of the beer, its taste was considered too bitter and had psychotropic properties. It was later discovered that the brew was made in unsanitary conditions, required the use of a toxic mushroom called 'hero's bane', and the contents of the brew was not properly filtered. Even though the minion brew is still being produced, it has been outlawed in several states and much of Canada and Alaska.

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Years later, in the present, The Overlord, whose name where a respected and worthy few would learn of as Carlon, was watching a rerun of Grey's Anatomy. The great stalactite tower known as the netherworld tower was the bastion of evil, home to The Overlord and his many hordes of minions. Normally, Carlon would wear his armor and axe most times of the day. Since The Overlord didn't sleep, he would either keep up his appearance in the city he controlled or relax and watch television without it during his free hours. He stood at 7'7", whose eyes could change to various colors that matched his mood. They were currently a silvery white. Were he to become aggressive or angry, they would develop into a more yellow color, where if his emotions become more torrid, would make them orange, reddish-orange, or even neon red on rare occasions. He had red hair that was fashioned into a braid after visiting a hair salon, and was Caucasian in color, save for the blue glowing lines that seem to slowly swirl on his skin.

He was bored.

Not much of an intro after describing the events that happened after Carlon's emergence into this realm.

The netherworld had upgraded somewhat after the years went by. Much of the minion burrows had cable installed into many of the huts. Satellite television was not a viable option when you live underground. Most of the channels that the minions watched mainly consisted of demolition derbies, slapstick comedies, cartoons, violence, and a select few monster/horror movies where the monster/antagonist wins, and MTV. It was also here that the video editing center was located. They didn't have a minion smart enough to figure out how to edit videos so that they wouldn't be flagged or taken down, so they 'hired' an enslaved to do that kind of work for them. Then there was the mount pens. The wolves had their own stables, which had enjoyed the luxury of eating raw or slightly cooked meat. The spiders... seemed comfortable, living off of whatever kind of prey got trapped in their webs. And the salamanders was on a healthy diet of anything organic that can ashen to their flame, wooden furniture or furs, plant or animal.

Also located here is an old relic of the past that has provided minions with plentiful beer. A dwarven beer kettle, now used to mass produce the minion brew beer brand. However, the old relic was not meant to mass produce beer for all minions AND much of North America, so it was decided to get several enslaved to do much of the work, using low quality beer kettles and second rate ingredients. They would sometimes forget to prepare and boil the hero's bane mushrooms before fermenting them into the beer, possibly due to lack of sleep.

The minion master, an ancient minion named Gnarl, wearing black and red rags with a crystal lantern over his head, would often visit the minion burrows to check up on the little gnashers. As per usual, they seem to be up to their own antics, or entertain themselves with whatever they were watching. A scowl scrunched his raisin face. "... Hmm. I think it's time we do something about this idleness."

Gnarl turned and stormed as fast as his elderly legs could carry him, somehow managing to push a minion that was busy with his DS to the ground. Making way to the floating platform that floats between the minion burrows and the throne room, Gnarl jumped onto it, riding it to the throne room, a place Gnarl knows that his master usually resides in during his off time. Once the platform stopped moving, Gnarl scuttled off it and proceeded to approach his overlord. Gnarl stopped once he was right under the hanging and angled widescreen, using the same rack that lets the world map slide over and give The Overlord various points to transport himself to. The Overlord didn't notice Gnarl there.

"... Ahem." Gnarl said, trying to get his masters attention.

The Overlord looked down at his minion master, growling from being disturbed during his free time. "Grr... What, Gnarl?"

"Sire," Gnarl addressed to his master. "I cannot help but feel as though that we have been aloof in our villainy."

"Aloof."

"Yes sire."

"As in, lacking?"

"That is right, sire." Gnarl clasped his fingers.

"... That's all you have to say on this manner?"

"Well... It's just that we haven't exactly done anything evil in the past month, my lord. Not to say that I have been keeping track of your evil deeds, sire."

"No no, I would expect a minion of your position to keep track of such things. But ah... Can this wait? The next season premiere is going to be announced."

"..." Gnarl turned away without saying anything, leaving for the minion burrows.

Carlon watched Gnarl leave the throne room, then continued watching his show once Gnarl stepped on the platform that floated to the minion burrows. Moments pass, but The Overlord felt something in his gut bother him. It wasn't indigestion perse, but it was more akin to... a nagging feeling.

Carlon shifted twice in his seat before remembering that Gnarl had said some things before leaving. Or a lack thereof. Carlon wasn't sure which it was. Carlon later figured out that Gnarl had ended up using reverse psychology on him. Or at least a reverse psychology of some kind, from what Carlon is able to figure out. But what Carlon did figure out is that he was feeling guilt for some reason. Guilt? An overlord? Carlon would not stand for this. He stood up and then proceeded to track down his minion master, either to punish him or give him a stern talking to about the usage of reverse psychology on an overlord.

Soon enough, Carlon emerged in the minion burrows. He pushed passed the enslaved that worked tirelessly making low quality beer for the masses, whilst the minions make the better quality of Minion Brew only for themselves, their master, and the scant amount of supporters to The Overlord's rule. Carlon tried to remember where Gnarl's hut was situated within this mess of twists and turns of burrows. After several wrong turns, Carlon ended up finding a lone blue minion near a flowing river and an arch of stone, who wielded a large scythe, and worn a black cloak and hood. The blue minion had a solemn and gloomy outlook about him. He turned upon hearing footsteps approaching. "... Ah, master! I wondered when you would come back here."

"Mortis." Carlon said. He didn't really like coming down to the minion graveyard. True, if ever his favorite minions succumbed to an untimely death, Mortis would always have the knack to bring them back. He also facilitated in gathering lifeforce from Carlon's harvests, and using that gathered lifeforce to spawn the minions. "Can you tell me where Gnarl is?"

"He's not at your side?" Mortis mused. "Strange. Advisors usually are close to their masters."

"Well... He's not at the moment. When did you see him last?"

Mortis pointed his scythe to a generalized direction. "I can smell his cooking, so he must be at his little hovel."

"Oh. Yeah, I can smell it too, now that you mentioned it." Carlon wrinkled his nose, but braved to go in the direction to where what counted as 'minion cooking' originated.

Mortis watched his master leave. He called out to him before his master was out of earshot. "Remember, sire! There is no equal exchange when it comes to the afterlife. Death is fair to all mortals equally."

Carlon minded not of Mortis's drivel, since it's yet another riddle about death and life or whatever it pertained to. But still, Mortis means well, so Carlon would keep it in mind, in case there was some revelation in the future. Carlon clanked along his way, smelling and following the awful smell of minion cuisine. Various minions stepped out his way and saluted to him, or at least those that were not busy with whatever handheld game they were mashing buttons on.

Eventually, Carlon found the source of the smell. Gnarl's hut was slightly larger than any other minion hut, or even the huts that belonged in The Overlord's horde. The size of the door was not big enough to allow his imposing presence to pass, so he simply knocked on the door.

"I'm busy! If it's you again, Maul, I'll tie your leg to a spider's leg and let whatever happens, watching!" Said a voice from the inside.

"Minion master." Carlon replied.

"Wh- Augh! Uh, wait there a moment!" There was sudden clanging from inside the hut. Seconds later, Gnarl opened door to the entrance of his hut and peered out, looking up to find his master, and here of all places. "... Sire! Uh... I didn't expect you to come down here and see me!"

Carlon remained silent.

"... Well. Uh... Parden me for just a minute!" Gnarl retreated back into his hut, clanging being heard from within again. Nearly 10 seconds earlier than a minute's passing, Gnarl returned with a pot of... Something. Its odor was strongly that of... Something. The smell it was wafting into the air was beyond description, since it had such a pungent essence. Gnarl hobbled out, stirring its contents with a wooden spoon. "I apologize for making you wait. I didn't want my meal to spoil."

Carlon had to cover his nose when it felt as though it was burning off. "Blugh! What even is that?"

Gnarl looked down into his saucepan. "Oh. It's just a goulash. Mushroom and bat wings. My favorite kind of comfort food when there is nothing to do but wait for the next scheme. I could interest you in a nibble, but I think the last time a human tasted my cooking, he turned inside-out."

"Hmm. ... Did you uh... Boil the mushrooms first?" Carlon asked.

Gnarl gave Carlon an inquisitive stare. "Sire, you know better than me that eating a fresh hero's bane would turn any man worth their salt into a blithering idiot. They would chew out their own tongue and prattle on about seeing worms trying to creep into their vision."

"It actually has the opposite effect for minions, however." Carlon pointed out.

Gnarl looked up at Carlon. He then looked back at his saucepan. "Well... Yes... Your point?"

Carlon turned and leaned onto Gnarl's hut, which threatened to topple with a groan. "I was thinking over what you just said, Gnarl. Perhaps we 'may' have been a little more than aloof than I had thought prior."

Gnarl sighed, blowing into his spoonfuls and eating. " *grumch grumch* Bechueen ewe ah me, hire, *ulp* " Gnarl said, chewing and swallowing. "It has been nearly three months since we did any nefarious deeds."

Carlon immediately looked back at Gnarl. "Three months?"

"Yes, sire. *grumch* Hsree onfs." Gnarl said, eating his disgusting home-cooked meal.

Carlon turned away and shook his head. "It couldn't have been three months. Could it? ... *sigh* I must be slipping. ... But what about that time I knocked down that old lady's grocery bag?

"You didn't knock them down, you bumped into her. That didn't count."

"Well... How about that time I forced those people to laugh at the video I made?"

"Putting up the audio of a laugh track during an animal abuse infomercial, though funny in and of itself, is not evil. Plus, you started laughing, which prompted them to laugh. I would hardly consider it evil since they had guffawed just so that they wouldn't risk getting cleaved in twain. Or, would have, since you didn't bring your axe with you that day. *grumch*"

"Gr. ... Alright, how about this: I forced a beggar to eat sand. What isn't evil about that?"

"That was, if my memory serves... eight months ago."

Carlon looked down and shook his head even more. He stopped leaning on Gnarl's hut, turned around and punched it once, forcing a window and door to tilt and become crooked. Gnarl looked up, surprised, and nearly spilling his meal. Carlon growled, agitated yet nonplussed about his recent activity over the past three months. "... Am I seriously losing my edge here?"

"Oh no no no, sire! Not at all! It's just... Well... Uh... It's just that... Uh..." Gnarl stammered, trying to think of an excuse.

"... Right." Carlon said, peering and reaching into Gnarl's hut and pulling something out, then storming away.

Gnarl shook himself from his current thought process, dumbly watched, then followed after Carlon. "S-sire?"

Carlon briskly walked past many minions in his wake, his eyes now glowing a bright and angry orange. He picked up a brown minion along the way, dropping his hat that happened to be a bent hubcap. Carlon followed the various wires along the ground and found the cable box. The Overlord aimed the minion at that very cable box and launched him, the minion powered projectile smashing and destroying Carlon's target. Every minion in the minion burrows screeched and roared their disdain simultaneously as their screens would show static. The Overlord then wielded the pilfered item from Gnarl's house, using it to project his voice to everyone in the burrow. _**"MINIONS~!"**_

Every minion stopped what they were doing, either distracting themselves with games or complaining with the television service, and focused onto their master with their undivided attention. The only creatures that didn't give the attention that demanded as such was the enslaved, though in truth their master wanted only the attention of the minions anyway.

Carlon boomed again in Gnarl's megaphone. **"Long ago, we have been given the gift to travel to this reality, and do onto it however we wished. And what did we do? We raped the laws! We pillaged resources! We burned all obstacles in our way! Try as they might, the world would do what it can to keep us down and keep us secret. But we rebelled, and we didn't remain quiet!"** Carlon started pacing at this point. **"To invoke the old adage, quoted from a minion you all know: 'Evil always finds a way.' It's an ancient saying that many of you know and love, but I am feeling as though we have forgotten its meaning. Look at yourselves!"** Carlon turned and pointed at the general minion crowd.

Each minion looked at one another in confusion, though they did as their master asked. Not a minion dared not to disobey a direct command from their master when he's angry. Or at all. Minions are obedient like that.

Carlon spoke again. **"I bet very little of you would remember the earlier days where we fought in Stilwater for control. Back then, we had reached the pinnacle of fear and awe. When we took Stilwater, the residents knew that we were their masters, and that we would enforce our rule whenever they disobeyed, rebelled, or show disrespect! You. Come here."** Carlon pointed at a nearby minion, wearing a purple and white t-shirt that used to belong to a Saint long ago and had a paper bag as a hat, to which responded by accepting and carrying out the command of his master. He was picked up from his neck and raised high, being shown to the audience of minions. **"Meager, unwilled, flabby, lazy, and weakened. And this is what you have become!"** Carlon threw the minion at the crowd of minions, causing scabby ragdolls to fly around with the thrown minion being in the epicenter of the toss.

After the confusion, the minions gathered around the thrown minion and glared at him. The thrown minion got back up, but was then pummeled to the ground again by the angry mob.

 **"... The hell are you doing?"** Carlon bellowed to the minions.

The minions stopped and looked at their master in confusion. One decided to voice their thoughts on the matter. "You's said dis minion was weak. So we's beating the weak out of him! Make him better minion that way!"

Carlon shook his head. **"I was referring to all of you."**

The minions stared at their master, then stared at each other for a few seconds, then began rioting against one another.

Carlon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He breathed in and bellowed into his megaphone again. _**"BUT THERE IS SOMEONE IN HERE THAT IS MORE TO BLAME THAN ANY NUMBER OF YOU, COMBINED!"**_

All of the minions stopped what they were doing. Carlon reached out an outstretched hand and got ready to point to someone. The minions looked at their masters hand, ready to beat down whichever minion was responsible for The Overlord's current distress and frustration. Once they picked themselves up, they were ready to punish whomever it was.

The Overlord pointed to himself. **"Me. I am the one to blame. So settle down now and let me explain."**

All of the minions scratched their ears and cocked their heads, but did as their master told them to do and refrained from needless violence. Fun, but needless violence.

 **"For three months now, we have done nothing. No evil act, no mischievous plan, no nefarious trick. Not even a simple bloody nose on a bystander that looked at us funny!"**

"But what about Minion Games? Those is plenty evil, aren't they?" A minion in the minion audience piped up and said.

 **"That's just a side project, so shut up."** The minion looked down to the ground and remained quiet for the moment. **"So, as of today, we will plan something diabolical to get us out of this rut. We will remind the world that we are not ones to sit on our hands and do nothing. So, before the end of this week, we will be planning a bank heist. If we fail to do even that, then I, as an overlord, would be embarrassed and ashamed of being called your master. Any questions?"**

A minion raised a hand. "Why is my fun box looky like ants and snowflakes?"

 **"I broke the cable box so that we can have some focus on our evildoing. And to get your undivided attention to tell you about us not being evil enough in the past three months."**

Another minion raised his hand. "Cans we be fixings up the cay-bel box?"

 **"... We'll fix up the cable box after we robbed a bank."**

The minion nodded and went back into the crowd.

Carlon looked around at the crowd of minions for any more questions. None. **"Alright. I now expect every one of you to be ready to maim and break at a moments notice. Minions in my horde, report to the barracks and start training twice a day. We will get back into shape as we remind the world and ourselves that when it comes to evil, we have no equal!"** Carlon shouted and pumped his fist into the air.

All the minions cheered and hooted, prompting to get themselves into a riot again. The minions that have the power to resurrect fallen minions are going to be busy today. Out of the quagmire of minion revelry, Gnarl forced himself out of the mosh and flopped next to Carlon, nearly landing on his heavy metal boot. "Oof! Hoooh. Well, you got them riled up. Now what?"

Carlon dropped the megaphone he 'borrowed' onto Gnarl's back, then turned and walked to the direction of the platform that floated to the throne room. "We plan."

Gnarl stood up, retrieving his megaphone and watched absentminded as his master left. As though by a sudden burst of energy, Gnarl seemed to bound with joy as he followed after his master. There was much evil to be done.

* * *

 **A/N: I think I'll try to experiment and have Carlon replace the leader in The Saints in Saints Row: The Third and its missions, while trying to keep in mind the possible changes that the new timeline would incur.**


	2. A Long Awaited Heist

Chapter 2: A long awaited heist

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Carlon was quite furious over the turn of events that had recently occurred over the past week. He had immediately regretted his decision for what was to come on the day of the heist. Carlon was in the foundation of the tower, surrounded by his minions as they hoisted and adorned him his armor, which had been cleaned, polished, and carefully repaired. After being adorned his helm, he grabbed his most powerful weapon, his Dirty Thunderstorm axe, and headed for the throne room. As he approached the epicenter of his domain, and the center of the room, a great structure hovered down and grabbed The Overlord. It was a chandelier/claw that enabled travel to and from the netherworld tower, and any place that a netherworld gate was constructed. During the nearly instant transit, Carlon was still rather mad after listening to the plan that was made a week prior.

* * *

"From what the enslaved and the watchers are able to tell me, sire, The Stilwater First National Bank's vault is located in the upper floors." Gnarl said within Carlon's private quarters, near a table and a board that had various maps and pictures of points of interest highlighted and hanged up.

Carlon perused into Gnarl's plan carefully, reading through the various images and blueprints so as to find possible weaknesses in the bank's fortification. "I'd imagine it is made of tough stuff, so my axe might not be able to cut it. Literally and metaphorically."

"Well, as delightful as it is to chop away at a safe and break it apart, pilfering its contents would be all the sweeter when we have all the time we need to do such when it's in the netherworld. However sire, there are some complications that might deter us, though there is a way for us to acquire more money through this expenditure whilst solving the problem altogether." Gnarl explained.

"Go on."

"Well, sire, the bank happens to be owned by an external party, which had dealings with a former corporation known as Ultor. From what we can surmise, we can expect that the bank has its own private security force. Quaint, yet droll as it means we might actually end up splitting a few skulls that might get in our way. Other than that, we don't know much about them. But the real problem is the vault!" Gnarl pointed at a blueprint regarding the detail of the bank safe in question. "It's so big and bulky that not even a horde of 100 minions could hope to pick it up!"

"... So, what? Do we get an enslaved to pilot a helicopter to carry it out of there?" Carlon thought aloud.

"Well, that's one idea, but I was more thinking getting a lieutenant."

"What?"

"I did say that 100 minions could not pick up the safe. But if you could get 100 of them to push it off the building, go down to ground level, and then nudge it to a place on open earth where the minion diggers could set up a gate, then we will be able to transport it to the netherworld where we can safely and forcibly open it!"

"So can't I just get 100 minions with me and do this job on my own? Why not find some way to create a netherworld gate near the top of the building?"

"Oh no no no no no, sire! That would be too much trouble. Far too much! If you had too many minions in your control, then there is a chance that some would not hear your commands at all, or easily become distracted by some tart in a short skirt and leave the horde without you knowing about it. 50 is a well rounded number, and 50 minions it will be for you for this heist. We must gather another lieutenant for the extra 50 minions." Gnarl thought for a moment before speaking again. "Although... I think I would like to do some testing with the nether seeds since you brought that up."

"Huuuuuhhh... Fuck. I'm guessing we can't use an enslaved to do our bidding in this mission?"

"Regretfully, no sire. Enslaved are enslaved, lacking any will or drive to do much else. They can't even lead a horde of minions out of a paper bag! We need someone whom is eager to do the evil that we do. Thankfully, I have found just the someone that we could use."

Carlon crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow at Gnarl. "Who?"

"A film company had called us for the purposes of filming a documentary. The film company told me that we would be reimbursed if we took this actor with us and show him how it is like to be an overlord of evil. Once the heist is done, the actor will go about his merry way, whilst we will be going on yet another interview that will be committed into the documentary."

"... And what's the title of the documentary?"

"Well, with a little of my input, we decided to call it..." Gnarl waved his hands around dramatically. " 'The Evil of Stilwater'. Starring Josh Birk."

"Josh Birk?"

* * *

"JOSH BIRK! Get the fuck in there already!" Carlon shouted, trying to convince someone in stylish clothing into a netherworld gate.

"Uhhhh, I dunno man. Are-are-are you sure that you can't just bring the armor up and let me equip it during our drive there?" Josh whined, struggling as much as he can from being forced into the netherworld tower by that of four minions.

"Armor is a bitch to put on by yourself. Trust me. I even had my blacksmith prepare a set of steel armor just for you which will make you look like an evil commander. Now what's the point of putting it on if you're not going to brave a visit to my lair while I pull my ride around?"

"Are uh... Are you sure those little midgets are not gonna bite me?" Josh said, starting to slip a little.

"Grr... For the last time. Don't. Be. A. PUSSY!" Carlon kicked Josh hard into the netherworld gate, prompting the method actor to tumble in and disappear.

Carlon huffed and turned away, going to the garage of what was once previously the Saints Row Mega Condo. Instead, it had been converted into a forward base, a place where watchers and minions would work with one another to 'keep the peace' in Stilwater. Various buildings, especially those that once belonged to The Saints, had been converted and remodeled to fit the purposes of being a minion guard house. The watchers would report to the minions, and the minions would assemble a horde to deal out punishment. Such punishment often resulted in stealing wealth, killing citizens, breaking property, and general harassment. Such is the law in a city where an overlord reigns supreme!

A rumble from within the garage started as a growl from an engine sounded. A huge machine rolled out, which appeared to be a modified bus, a Cheetah in model, though was adorned with various dark designs and spikes. A giant face of a minion was on the grill of the bus, the eyes acting as an extra pair of headlights. The bus was black and silvery, with gold tipping some of the thorns and spikes. Many of the seats had been modified to carry minions, though it would seem they would have to share some seats for this mission. Carlon pulled the vehicle out and parked it in front of the minion guard house. He got out and approached the entrance, entering and revisiting the netherworld gate that had been installed near the entrance. There also happened to be fifty large sacks that was piled in the lobby. "20 browns, and 10 each of reds, greens and blues." Carlon said as he reached his left hand to the netherworld gate. The four openings slightly beneath the gate opened up and out flowed the minions.

Each one of them cackled with glee, eager to cause some mayhem after such a long spell of not doing evil. One of the minions came forward and saluted. "Mud, reporting for smashings, mastah!"

Carlon pointed to the black and silver Cheetah. "In the bus. Wait for me there. Don't touch anything in the driver's seat."

Mud looked back and forth between his master and the vehicle. "Okay, mastah!" Mud turned to the minions behind him. "Alright, minions! We's go on a road trip! Move!" And with that, the minions cheered with glee as they boarded onto the bus outside.

A slight yelling was heard from within the netherworld gate that grew and grew in volume. Suddenly, an armored man came tumbling out and falling face first onto the ground. He appeared to look exactly like Carlon, only smaller and without the glowing eyes. The clumsy armored man slowly got up and shook his head, eventually standing up straight and feeling the added weight of the armor. "Uh... Man. Wow. Uh... How do you move around wearing heavy armor like this?"

"Eating lots of meat and exercising while wearing it on a daily or weekly basis. Here's some tips: Don't exert yourself. Don't run too fast or you're liable to trip and fall. And most importantly, don't fuck up. Now, summon 50 minions." Carlon said, gesturing to the minion gates that lay at the base of the netherworld gate.

The armored man looked at the minion gates. Then he looked back at Carlon. Then looked back at the minion gates. And then he looked back at Carlon and said "Uh... How am I supposed to do that, Mr. Overlord?"

Carlon sighed and shook his head. "Just do what I do. Call out which minion breeds you want, and how many. Remember that the browns fight, reds throw fire, greens stab backs, and blues revive the fallen minions. But say so in an authoritative way, like... like you are meaning to drown some puppies after this heist."

The armored man seemed to have a shocked expression. "Why puppies?"

"Look, the minions love brutality, and they are willing to follow a brutal leader if you are willing to do what is necessary to achieve your goals, no matter how mixed up your morals and feelings get. You said you wanted to play the part of an overlord. Be like one, Josh!" Carlon said, smacking Josh on the back of his helmet.

Josh rubbed the back of his helmet, approaching the netherworld gate and the minion gates. After some hesitation, Josh breathed deeply then raised his left hand, and shouted in a serious tone. "15 browns, 15 reds, 15 greens, and 5 blues." Minions flowed out of the minion gates again, amassing and gathering around their lieutenant, Josh Birk the method actor. The minions looked up, snarling their disdain over having to follow a weak second in command. Josh seemed both surprised and elated over summoning minions for the first time. "... Wow. So I can just command these guys around?"

"For the moment. But yes." Carlon said, patience already wearing thin.

"Wow... Just... wow. What do I do with them now?"

Carlon stepped forward. "Now? How about you tell them to bring the sacks and join my minions on the bus for starters?"

"Oh." Josh said. Josh looked back onto his minion horde and changed his posture. "Alright you maggot eating spawns of hell, listen up. Gather these sacks and put them in the bus."

A minion came up and hissed. "Why should we listen to you? You is not master!" The minion said. Its fellow minions chuckled and hissed, supporting the lone minion and his remark.

Josh kicked down the minion and stomped on his belly. After the punishment, Josh spoke up again. "Talk to me like that again, and there is more where that came from. If you want to do some carnage, then do as I say and get those bags on the truck, NOW." Josh kicked the minion again, launching him onto the sacks and landing on them. After getting back up, the minion begrudgingly picked up a sack and limped to the direction of the bus. Josh looked at the rest of his minions, noting that they were staring incredulously. Josh glared at the dumbfounded minions. "What are you waiting for?!"

Immediately, the minions shook themselves out of their blank expressions and went ahead to pick up the sacks and transport them to the bus. Carlon nodded his head. "Not bad. For an amateur." Carlon gestured with his left hand a thumb signal, pointing towards the bus and heading there himself.

"Heh. I was just taking after your example, and putting a little of my spin on it. It wasn't hard." Josh exhaled and followed suit, going after The Overlord as the minions in Josh's horde hurriedly transported the sacks onto the bus. When everyone and everything was aboard, Carlon sat in the driver's seat while Josh sat at the back of the bus, with 100 minions complaining about there being not enough room where they had to share space within a bus that was designed for just 50 minions. Carlon resisted the urge to stop the bus, kick Josh out, and run him over, again and again.

* * *

It was an uneventful day in The Stilwater First National Bank. The various people who would go to bank here would have had scant amounts of money to deposit. Due to The Overlord's laws, a lot of the citizens of Stilwater were overly taxed, meaning that this bank in particular had suffered greatly because of the detrimental economy and wealth flow in this city. Some people, but mainly the tellers, had made the agreement with the bank to allow a few people to sleep within the building, provided they bring a sleeping bag or tent, as well as promised to not snitch to the watchers, the minions, or The Overlord himself.

Speaking of The Overlord, he just so happened to pull up in front of the bank. The 100 minions within toppled over one another and flowed out, where Josh finally got some legroom to stretch and breathe. Carlon came out last, closing the door behind himself. He looked down on Josh. "Alright, we're here. Gnarl, are you with us?"

 _"The entire time, sire."_

"GAHAHAAA! Whuh? Where did that voice come from?" Josh exclaimed, looking around frantically.

 _"It's just lil ol' me, sub-creature. Remember? I was the one who told the minions to put all that armor on you?"_

"... Oh. Right! So... I guess this means you got some kind of communication link in my helmet, huh? That's actually a good idea! That could be a very discreet way for a director to say the lines to the actors on set without even being in the shot."

 _"Or to relay tactical information during a skirmish on the field of battle. Also, the helmet you are wearing permits me to see and hear what you do. So in the meantime, try not take any bathroom breaks. You never know when a mischievous minion might take pictures for blackmail."_

"... Huh. I guess I can hold it until this is over." Josh said, thankful that he peed before getting into the armor he now wore.

"Are you two done? Josh, have your minions bring the sacks inside. We'll have to take multiple trips. I'll secure the ground floor and you transport the sacks." Carlon said, motioning to his horde of minions and proceeding forward.

Josh nodded. "You got it, Mr. Overlord." Josh then proceeded to instruct the minions in his horde to deliver the sacks into the building, while Carlon scared away the rabble that ran out of the bank.

* * *

 **A/N: Aheh, uh... Should I name the next chapter differently so that it references the mission in the Saints Row: The Third game? I'm open to suggestions. '3'  
**


	3. When Evil Heists Go Bad

Chapter 3: When Evil Heists Go Bad

* * *

After The Overlord figured out that the elevator could only take 30 minions carrying sacks with them at a time, He had to micromanage between both his minions and the lieutenant he brought with him on this job. Carlon was already exercising every amount of patience he had, down to the last nerve, and he was still unnerved at the idea and prospect of sharing his minions with another. But this Josh character... He just seemed so pathetic to the role he was given.

After Transporting all the sacks to the floor in quick timing, Carlon had left his minions there to guard the sacks until he returned. Much of the lobby at the top floor of the First National Bank of Stilwater had garish horse riding statues, where the color of the walls and floors consisted of black, white and red hues. Even the staff here wore black and red, dressed in what seemed regal for work clothes. Much of the people on the top floor dared not to ask them over what they were doing, ever since one tried to came up and asked them if they were making a deposit and was nearly executed on the spot. But rather, the conversation ended up like this:

"Uh... What's with all the sacks for, sir?" The receptionist would ask.

The Overlord would answer "... Isn't it obvious?"

"... Not really. What's in them, if I may ask?"

"It's an investment. I'm planning to deposit it."

"An... Investment?"

"Something wrong?" Carlon said in a harsh tone.

"Ah... No, not at all! It's just that... There's so much money here."

"If you would keep your brainless comments and questions to a minimum, or to none at all, then I won't have to make myself feel better by making everybody's day worse. Got it?"

And the receptionist decided to shut up at that moment.

* * *

One last elevator ride up the building, Carlon, Josh, and a few remaining minions rode their way patiently. Josh had decided to show them a trailer video of one of his television shows, called Nyte Blayde.

Mud the minion seemed transfixed over the stunts and quality of the camera angles. "Ooooh, You is actor that star as that guy? Hurgh~! Very fighty and bloody looking!" Some of the other minions scoffed, but kept on watching since there was nothing else to do at the moment.

Josh nodded and smiled. "Thanks a bunch for the compliment. Definitely a better money raker than Japanese commercials, though they tend to be easy money."

 _"What is also easy money is grand larceny."_ Gnarl commentated. _"Are you ready for this?"_

"No worries." Josh replied to Gnarl. "I do my own stunts. ... But I think I might not be able to do a back-flip in this suit of armor."

"Hey. You're just here because I needed another man to micromanage my minions. Don't think you can buddy up to me and think we're already friends." Carlon warned.

"I am a method actor." Josh said in a serious tone. "If I'm gonna play as an overlord with any degree of emotional truth, I gotta make it real." He said, brandishing an sword. Why he went with a sword and not an axe, Carlon would never know.

But Carlon shook his head and unholstered his axe too. "Trust me Birk. It'll be real."

Josh nodded his head, but stopped. "So... We're robbing a bank with just the sacks we brought with us?"

 _"Don't forget the minions, Josh. They will provide you the necessary grit to protect your worthless hide, and take the bank."_ Gnarl added.

"Ultra violent bank heist involving the denizens of hell at our command." Josh said, finding satisfaction at the idea. "I love it."

Once the elevator dinged, the two commanders and the last of the minions joined with the massive horde that guarded the sacks until their master, and to a lesser degree Josh, returned. However, despite getting all of the sacks brought to this level and having two full hordes that can be commanded by two people at once, Carlon was still rather agitated. "I could care less about my documentary, but I don't really see how I need a lieutenant just for the purposes of getting extra minion hands to help."

 _"Oh please, master. He's just here to observe how you spread terror to the innocent! All he is doing is researching his part."_

"Birk, get your minions to carry the sacks." Carlon said, proceeding forward.

"Ah... Alright. All minions in my horde, pick those sacks up. Move it, move it, move it!" Josh ordered, to which the minions had begrudgingly replied.

Once all of Josh's minions had picked up each of the fifty sacks they brought into the bank, Carlon approached the receptionist. "Tell us where the bank vault is." Carlon said, motioning to his minions to scatter and-

Josh, with a surprising amount of speed and acrobatics, despite being in steel armor, jumped onto the receptionists desk and aimed his sword down at the receptionist. "NOBODY MOVES, NOBODY DIES!"

"Birk!" Carlon shouted, feeling very tempted to just start killing Josh then and there, not caring whether or not he needed 100 minions to do this job.

"Sorry, jumped this line. Can we go again?" Josh said, lowering his blade.

Carlon shook his head and brought his axe up and onto his shoulders, now facing the people in the bank. At least the minions were scattering to maintain control of the lobby. "Birk, whatever deity you pray, you will be swearing to it as I torture you after this bank heist."

 _"... Uh. Sire?"_

"What Gnarl?"

 _"It might not be the best strategy to say it out loud while in earshot of people."_

Carlon froze in place. The people in the bank, the tellers and the receptionist, shared blank expressions. The receptionist decided to pipe up again. "But... I thought you said that you were making a deposit! Weren't you?"

Carlon looked back at the receptionist. Then to the tellers. Then to Josh. "Birk, use your minions on her."

Josh looked at Carlon and nodded. He raised his left hand and pointed at the receptionist. "Detain!"

The minions in Josh's horde surrounded and pounced the receptionist, detaining her.

Carlon turned away and spoke to the customers in the bank. "Everyone, drop your valuables in front of me, and you may live!"

* * *

People were forced into a line, frisked by minions, and had their money and jewelry put into the pile in front of Carlon. Josh meanwhile was pointing his sword at one of the tellers and threatening her.

"Please sign this? I love your show." One of the customers of the bank, which happened to be a fan of the various minion television series said to Mud, gave him a shirt that had the logo of Minion Games with the words 'Get the shiny!' on it.

"Okay! Who Mud make scribbly for?" Mud asked.

"Larry."

"To Larry," said Mud aloud, signing the shirt. "hoping to bash your face when we meet. From, Mud! There. That be fifty monies." Mud said, gesturing with an open palm for the pay. The scribbles on the shirt was in no way legible.

"Um... You already robbed me."

"Oh... Well here then!" Mud brought his club up and clocked the customer in the face with it, making him fall back. "If you have no monies, then you pay in pain instead. Rules is rules! Hahahahehuha~!" Mud said, throwing the shirt at the fan's face and going back to his master.

Josh, on the other hand, was still pestering the teller. "Get in line, bitch!"

"Hey. Stop dicking around." Carlon said, his last straws were just about being used up at this point.

Josh Birk turned around. "You call yourself the evil master of Stilwater? You and your midgets a bunch of pussies! We should be all up in their shit, like- FUCK!"

A loud bang was heard, scaring many of the customers away, while Josh Birk retreated to the safe cover that is the receptionists desk. Carlon backed away and saw that the tellers were packing heat the whole time. _"Well. That's a first!"_ Gnarl chimed in as Carlon, in the heat of the moment, decided to join Josh in his cover. The minions in both Carlon and Josh's horde took refuge in the receptionists desk as well, figuring that fight time is at the premium at the moment.

Josh huddled close to Carlon and shouted as the gunfire resounded behind them. "Do you have a gun, or do we just wait until they get in range of our melee weapons?!"

"... We won't be waiting for them. MINIONS! ATTACK!" Carlon shouted. As they swarmed around and over the receptionists desk, Carlon too had went out of cover only to nearly run into the business end of an SMG. With a quick swipe with his left hand and a quick right hook of his right, Carlon grabbed onto the gutsy teller and held him like a shield. Carlon held his axe blade to his neck. "Alright then. Point me to the vault."

The teller struggled. "Go to hell!"

"... No thanks, but you first." Carlon pushed onto the teller's back with his knee, forcing the teller to fall forward onto Carlon's axe. It neatly cleaved the tellers face that started from the neck and ended to the top of his head. All that didn't get sliced was the tongue that stuck out of a flat and gored surface of exposed bone, brain, and face meat.

 _"Nice execution, sire, but couldn't you wait to kill him until we found out who these people are?"_ Gnarl said, amidst the chaos.

"He insulted me." Carlon said, throwing away the corpse and proceeding to the tellers. The brown minions that had rushed forward had dwindled down in numbers, but began winning once they were in arms reach of the tellers. "Blues, guard." All the blue minions in Carlon's horde perked up their ears and began running to their fallen comrades. Though many of the green and red minions were alright, Carlon needed every minion to pull off this heist.

A cowering Josh peeked up finally. "We're gonna die!" His exclamation was unfounded to the minions and Carlon, as everyone seemed to roll their eyes simultaneously. Josh kind of felt stupid after saying that out loud.

 _"Whatever happened to 'I do my own stunts?' Josh, I thought you would be better than that! An overlord that doubts himself is an overlord that never wins."_ Gnarl chided.

"Hey, do I look like I'm wearing squibs to you?" Josh complained, proceeding forward when he saw that the coast was clear of hostile tellers. It wasn't clear of dead tellers, however.

"Enough. Let's go vault hunting." Carlon said, going ahead.

After approaching a set of doors that lead to the inner complex of the bank past the lobby, Josh went ahead of Carlon. "That's right, you fuckers! We're comin' for you!" Josh then tried to kick the doors down, only to fail as the weight of his armor forced him to fall backwards.

 _"Get up, Birk."_ Gnarl said, unimpressed. _"And try to keep moving."_

Carlon waved his hand out, prompting his minions to do the dirty work and bust down the door. When the doors were kicked down, they were immediately assailed by gunfire again. "Blues, move up your guard-point here." Carlon ordered, keeping his minions close and focusing on the fight as the browns moved up and kept much of the gunfire on them while advancing forward.

 _"Still though, it was a shame that you had to kill him so quickly."_

"Would you rather I throw him into the nearby statues?" Carlon replied

 _"But I would still like to find out who these people are!"_ Gnarl seemed to be fixed on the topic at the moment, rather than provide tactical intelligence.

"I am wondering that myself, Gnarl. I think we will find those answers after this heist is done and over with. Grah!" Carlon shouted during the gunfire. Some stray bullets riddled into his arm, though is arcanium armor absorbed much of the damage. It still stinged like hell though.

The battle between the staff in the bank and the forces of evil in Stilwater raged on like this. The browns absorbed much of the brunt of damage, but the blues were eager to pick them back up again for more punishment. The reds managed to provide cover fire, forcing the gun toting bank staff to disperse and go for cover, giving the browns scant time to rush in and pounce the defenders. The green skinned minions were used in focusing on stragglers that had separated from the other bank staff.

Josh Birk however was bringing up the rear, with minions that did nothing but carry the fifty sacks that was brought to the heist. Josh decided to speak up again. "Is this what it's normally like?"

 _"Normally, the tellers don't use shotguns."_ Gnarl answered. _"Or... Work in banks that look like palaces. Now that you mentioned the statues, sire, this place does appear to bear the resemblance of a palace of sorts!"_

"Palaces where the guards have military grade weapons." Carlon said, pushing another bank staff up a wall with his axe embedded into his enemy. With a twist and a yank, the bank staff member had his intestines pulled out in a dark scarlet shower, which immediately fell to the ground and died. "Alright, I am going to admit that it kind of makes me wonder who we are robbing."

After dealing with the staff, the minions and both commanders of minions went up the stairs and found the vault. Carlon approached the heavily fortified door and sighed. Gnarl was right. There was no way he could have enough time to hack into it. Even if he tried to stay there and do so, he would be wasting too much time. Using axe power alone, Carlon would have estimated that it would take a straight week to finally break it open. Luckily, he and Gnarl thought up a plan.

"Huh, huh... I... I can't breathe."

Carlon turned around and saw Birk hunched over. Carlon sighed, approached him and removed his helmet. "I told you not to exert yourself." Carlon placed Josh's helm in his arms, then turned away and re-approached the vault door.

 _"Hmm... The vault looks to be pretty fortified around itself, sire. And heavy. I don't think we'll be able to push it out and get it the normal way. And judging what I saw underneath the vault, breaking apart the pillars below it might destroy much of the stability of the building, and cause whatever is above us to cave in on us!"_ Reported Gnarl.

"Hmm..." Carlon thought for a moment, thinking of various plans of action.

"So what's plan B, we drill it?" Josh asked, finally getting the wind back into himself.

A drill would have been useful if one had the patience. But not The Overlord. "I'm more thinking to catch it as it falls."

"WHAT?" Josh said aloud, incredulous and surprised. "What do you mean by that? Are you saying you can carry the vault with your hands? That's so cool!"

"I'm not going to catch it with just my hands, you moron." Carlon rebuked. "You're going back downstairs. Tell the minions in your horde to deposit the sacks right under the vault. Got it?" Carlon turned and pointed to where Josh needed to go, which pointed to where they came.

Josh looked back behind himself and nodded. "Alright, my man. Just one question before I go. What are in the sacks?"

"Soil." Carlon answered.

"... Soil? ... Heh. Hahahahaha! So all this time you had me carry around dirt the whole way?" Josh said, finding it hard to believe.

"Josh. Deposit. Under. Safe. Move." Carlon said as clearly as he could, restraining with all his might to off his partner in crime and command.

Josh stared for a moment, nodded, and then ran back down the stairs he came up from, bringing with him the minions carrying the sacks of dirt, as well as his helmet within his arms.

Carlon pointed at the Vault. "Minions in my horde. Break everything around the vault." With that command, the minions in Carlon's horde went to the vault and started breaking everything around it. The brown colored minions broke and bashed, the red flavored minions burned and ignited, the green pigmented minions stabbed and sliced, and the blue breed of minions... well, they helped. When Carlon saw that all of his minions were diligently working, or destroying rather, it gave Carlon the moment to wander a little and let his mind puzzle over the recent developments. Or would have, as glass had shattered, bullets plinking into the room he was in.

 _"Sire, I believe you have company."_

Carlon looked over an overhanging balcony that overlooked the lobby that he, Josh and all the minions had entered. Fantastic. "Birk, be advised. More of the bank's staff is coming in from the lobby. Strategically place your minions and hold them."

"I'm still setting and piling up the sacks of dirt!" Birk replied.

"I'll buy you some time." Carlon approached the window and aimed his fireballs at the incoming forces. What kind of bank staff carried military grade weapons to protect a facility that stores money? They ducked and dodged, but at least Carlon was slowing their progress.

However, Carlon was suddenly blinded by red light. He held up his left hand and tried to focus on where this light was coming from. From what he saw from his limited vision, there were two tall bald men in long red trench coats. There was a sudden burst of force as Carlon was knocked off his feet, his head jerking suddenly as his helmet was shot off.

"Hey guys! We don't need the sacks of dirt, I found a way to open the vault!"

There was suddenly a loud ringing.

 _"Josh, that was not the vault opening button. That was the alarm button. Were you trying to call the police so we could all go to jail?"_

"What? I don't want to be some dude's bitch!"

 _"Josh, where do you think you are you going? Have you forgotten already that we have complete control of this city? Even the police! Josh! Hoooh. I apologize sire, but our lieutenant for hire dropped his helm and left his minions behind. How deplorable. ... Sire, how come the view is sideways? Sire? SIRE?"_

Carlon couldn't hear the conversation happening because his helmet was forced off of him with sniper fire. He was suffering from a concussion, and his ears was ringing that seemed to be drowning out every sound. Eventually, men and women in black and red filled his blurry vision. They seemed to talk among one another. Carlon had a tough time focusing on their conversation due to his concussion and hearing affliction. The last thing Carlon remembered was seeing what looked to be a dart gun that was aimed at his neck, which was shot more times than he could count. After that, his vision blurred till only darkness encompassed his existence.

* * *

 **A/N: I tried to twist the story in a way that seemed similar to the original mission in Saints Row: the Third game too. I kinda hope this doesn't get people too mad. Not sure how it would though. 'w'**


	4. I'm Free, Overlord Style

Chapter 4: I'm Free, Overlord Style

* * *

Darkness.

Everywhere Carlon could see was darkness.

Suffocating and all encompassing.

Carlon wasn't even able to realize it since he was knocked silly and then tranquilized during that bank heist. But he was slowly growing aware, and his awareness ate away at the shadows of his mind and vision. Soon enough, Carlon was able to see light, and be able to think of his name. Once he saw color, he was able to remember the names of many of his minions. When he saw shapes, he remembered seeing two men wielding sniper rifles that had knocked him out, then went ahead and tranquilized him. Anger flooded from within himself, prompting him to instinctively try moving. His arms and legs were restrained, but at least he knew that nothing was missing. All his limbs were intact, down to every digit on his feet and hands. But there was a problem. He felt exposed. Naked. Almost as though he wasn't wearing his...

Fuck. He was wearing no armor.

Carlon struggled in his binds as he now became fully aware. He looked down and found himself bound in metal and leather restraints. Carlon lamented that metal was not burnable. And the restraints were large metal-made shackles that fitted over his forearms and what felt like his shins. Movement was limited. Worse than that, several leather straps entwined and restrained him further on his various joints and onto his neck which limited how much his head could turn. Worse yet, it felt as though he wasn't laying on a surface. The shackles and straps must be carrying his weight much like a hammock. It must be some type of gurney of some odd design. Analyzing the room he was in, he found himself in a concrete cell. It was dusty, and dimly lit. He heard noises around himself, such as far away footsteps and nearby breathing.

Carlon had finally decided to break the silence. "Hello? Anyone here?"

"Mastah? Is that you?" Sounded a high-pitched and gravelly voice.

Carlon tried to turn his head to look at the voice that called out to him. "How many minions are in here with me? Sound off your name when I call your horde number. 1."

"Mud here."

"2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10... 11... 12..."

"Bark is here, Mastah. I can't move." Another minion said.

"Noted. 13... 14... 15..."

"Bill here."

"16... 17... 18... 19..."

"Maaka all tied up. What is here?" Some struggling could be heard outside of Carlon's field of vision.

"20... 21..."

Carlon continued like this until all the minions that was with him, and was conscious, replied to their horde number. Minions are very pathetic when it comes to math, or counting. But so long as they know and remember the number of their horde number, they can at least perform role call. Though minions tend to have the strongest up front in a minion formation, the minions that come out in the order of being spawned generally dictates their horde numbers. When a minion dies and a new minion is spawned, the newly spawned minion would inherit the horde number once held by the deceased. This method enabled many an overlord to keep track of the strongest minions that have been selected to fight in a horde, and to keep track of the strong minions that had died in their services. It's an easier method than just remembering every minion name.

Once Carlon was done with roll call, he discovered that Mud, Bark, Bill, Maaka, and 8 other minions was with him. He knew by the names alone that the first 4 were the brown breed of minions. Then there was Flames, Blaze, and Rust, who were reds. Snake, Vanish, and Hamstring, being greens. And finally, Heals and Rotgill. Blues. All in total were 12. Not a good number, but it will have to do until he can get out of this hellhole.

Carlon decided to get some answers. "Alright. Anyone remember what happened during the bank heist?"

"Um... Mud think so." A minion named Mud said. "We was... carrying sacks into bank. Bank people then showed us their shooty things and shootied at us. We bashed them and went into bank. We then bashed more, then found what Mastah and Birky was callings a vault. You told us to smash everything around vault, and we did. The vault then sunk through floor and crashed into ground below us! Squished many sacks, but then Birky left after ringing noise, and lots of the bank people shootied us with green feather stuff that hurt like a needle stuck in arm. But then Mud got tired and went sleepy after."

"Not me!" A hissing green said, which must have been Snake. "They shootied lots of those green feather needles at us greens, but we no fell asleep like you other minions did!"

"Me too!" "And me!" Vanish and Hamstring said together.

This information might prove more than useful, other than knowing what may have been tranquilizer darts having no effect on the poison immunity of the green minions. "Snake, can you tell us what happened after that?" Carlon asked.

"Yas, yas!" Snake hissed. "They shootied much of us greens, with either the green feather darts or normal shooty things, but then they started punching us until we gots knocked out. After that, I think I remember a bag on my head."

Carlon could only think of one possible theory. These people wanted the minions alive? Carlon didn't like knowing that. But what could he do? He was restrained with a small complement of minions, and they don't have the means to break from their restraints. Regretfully, all the overlord could do at the moment was wait until his captors returned. Most likely to give him and his remaining minions due punishment.

"So..." Heals said, finally deciding to speak up. "We is no getting TV fixings with stolen monies?"

"No, Heals." Mud barked. "We won't be getting TV fixings, because we not steal any monies at all!"

"Uh... Wait. I remember something..." Flames said. "We didn't go to steal the bank just for monies. Right?"

There was a slight pause before another minion spoke up again. "Mastah." Mud said. "We no just steal monies in bank just for fixing kay-bell box, right?"

"It wasn't about the money." Carlon said, sighing. Stupid minions. The point of robbing the bank in the first place was to remind themselves and the world that they were still evil.

"It's always about the money, Mr. Overlord."

The new voice caught Carlon off guard. From his peripheral vision, red clothed figures opened a door and entered a room. Carlon tried to look at them with limited success, though his head was forced to look at the ceiling. But what Carlon had assumed was his captors kindly came into his view. Notably was a tan women that looked to be in a black sweater, wearing white designer shades. "Which is precisely why our employer wishes to speak with you."

Then another woman, bearing the same resemblance with the exception of pink designer shades, came up beside the lookalike. Twins? The other woman spoke. "If you will indulge us...?"

Carlon gazed at each of them, plus the other men and women that entered the room with them. They came with burlap sacks, ready to hinder his vision when they move again. Carlon scowled at all of them, clenching his teeth. "Like I even have a choice."

* * *

After some time of waiting, being driven around in some vehicle that carried him off someplace, only to be loaded onto something that made the familiar sound of a plane. He felt the extra G force as the new vehicle he was now riding in had taken off. If Carlon was to guess, he was either in the city limits of Stilwater before he got on the plane, or was not. It was hard to have a reference of place or time when one hasn't figured out what date it is after being knocked unconscious, then drugged with tranquilizer. During the flight, the gurney he was traveling in was pushed and guided around. After he came to a relative stop inside the aircraft, the burlap sack had finally came off. Carlon was now able to see, but only saw red, black and pink decor. There was also two men beside him, which had manipulated the gurney Carlon was on to rotate into a standing position. It was truly a gurney of odd design.

At least The Overlord recognized the twins, which he was assuming were twins, though he could tell that there was a person sitting at the desk between the two, that was in front of him. With a grandiose reveal, the chair turned to reveal a white haired man, dressed in a red and black suit with a red scarf around his neck. Carlon immediately hated this man.

"You have any idea who I am?"

"Of course." Said the white haired man. One of the twins turned around, activating a remote to activate a large display screen to show one of the episodes of Minion Movies. The white haired man in the red and black suit rotated his seat at 45° degrees, looking up at the illuminated screen. "A remarkable evolution." After turning back to face Carlon, with a deadpan stare, he then gestured to the two twins that seem to mirror one another. "These two visions are Viola and Kiki. And I am Phillipe Loren, chairman of the multi-national organization called The Syndicate. Do you like the gurney?" Phillipe said, gesturing to Carlon. "It was designed for high class prisoners in a maximum security prison. As I heard about your... 'strength', I thought it best to put you into one."

"So... You're the guys that owned that bank." Carlon said, stating the revelation.

"Evidently yes, yet you still went ahead and robbed my bank." Phillipe paused a little. "Perhaps you wonder why you're still breathing at this point."

"In all honesty, slightly. But do go on." Carlon was only figuring out now that this... Phillipe character was trying to offer something to him. Hence the reason why he was still alive now and not in some government building being dissected, or something of the sort.

"Then I will tell you. Our organization is expanding into Stilwater, but the economy in 'your' city has suffered a widespread depression. All of the city's wealth is seemingly dwindling as much of the worlds funding and precious materials is slowly leached by you. I am offering you the chance to leverage your assets against your life. Ladies?" Phillipe stood up and decided to pace in the room.

One of the sisters with the remote pointed at the screen again to show a pie chart. One of them spoke again, though Carlon wasn't sure which one was Viola or Kiki. "You may continue to operate within Stilwater as you see fit, and continue your internet broadcasts, interviews, and alcoholic drink production, in exchange for 66 percent of your monthly gross revenue, providing that you don't target Syndicate owned assets."

"That is before taxes, of course. You do pay taxes, right?"

Carlon huffed. "And I thought _I_ was evil. But more importantly... What about the minions you took during the heist on your bank?"

One of the sisters smirked. "The ones we kept alive will remain with us. There are some research firms that will pay heavily for dissecting these specimens you call 'minions'. Pharmaceutical companies will pay heavily for your odd colored pets."

"Immunity to tranquilizer rounds is not something that occurs naturally in mother nature, after all." Said the other sister.

"And my armor and weapon?" Carlon asked.

"Kept safe in secure locations, mainly guarded by other divisions. They will be returned to you if you are complaint with our demands, however." Said the same other sister.

There was a long pause, which prompted Phillipe Loren to pause in his pacing and face Carlon finally. He leaned down and tilted his head. "So, Mr. Overlord. Do we have a deal?"

Carlon looked down and began a slow, low chuckle that lasted for 10-15 seconds. After the laugh, he looked back up with eyes redder than the scarf Phillipe worn. "No deal. But I promise you this: You will suffer the unending wrath of an overlord. Each and every one of you will be punished with your lives."

"... You are not in the position to make threats, Mr. Overlord." Phillipe said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh I'm getting to you, Phil, so keep your accented tongue still for the moment." Carlon glared at Phillipe. "Since you are the one running things, and is responsible for my capture, there is no escape for you. When I get the chance, I will crush you to a bloody pulp."

Phillipe gave a deadpan frown. "'The bee, from her industry in the summer, eats honey all the winter.' It's a proverb from Belgium, which means that you enjoy what you have worked hard over. Since all you seem to do is take and take, there is less 'honey' to go around, and now it falls to me to deal with this since you tried to take from me directly."

"I don't care about your fucking sweet tooth, Phil. I care about killing you."

"Tch." Phillipe stepped forward and turned, nodding to a henchman. "And I hoped to come to a rational business arrangement."

The henchman came over and unholstered a pistol, slowly aiming it to Carlon's head.

A burst of golden light had illuminated the room, timed at the exact moment that the gun was fired. Carlon jerked his head to his left as hard as he could while he activated his sanctuary spell, the bullet skimming his face and ruining much of the leather straps that kept his head in place. Everyone paused and stared. Carlon smiled as he immediately turned his most powerful shield spell off right after. He needed to be careful in using too much of his mana, since he no longer had his armor that can slowly restore his mana supply. Carlon chuckled. "Neat trick, right? Your little gurney here might be able to hold a prisoner, but I wonder if it can hold an overlord? Here's my next magic act."

Carlon had summoned another defensive spell through shear willpower, which had enveloped his body with fire. The tongues of fire struck at the remaining leather straps and ignited them. The gurney's metallic parts and frame was glowing redder, creaking and bending in random places as the hot metal softened. "What are you waiting for? Shoot him!" After the order was issued from the henchman's leader, Phillipe, the henchman aimed his gun and fired rapidly this time. Carlon brought his arms forward to protect his torso and head, where the bullets grazed his skin and clanged loudly on his hot shackles. Since the leather slightly burnt from the ignition, they became brittle enough to snap.

Even though the shackles restrained his movement heavily, he worked through the pain of being shot as he predicted where the bullets would aim, then moved the shackles where the gun would fire its deadly projectiles. There was a clang, followed by jingling noises that could only mean that an errant chain was shot off. Carlon summoned forth his flamethrower spell and enveloped the henchman in a brilliant blaze. Using a freed hand, he clanged his shackle onto the other chains that kept him on the gurney, then turned off his infernal shield. He never really used this spell often simply because it was meant to be used offensively, though it was a powerful spell that rivaled the sanctuary spell when it came to mana cost. The sanctuary spell was much more flashier, and it protected him from any form of damage. Once freed, he stepped forward and craned his neck, at least happy to stand on solid ground once again.

Or as solid as the carpeted flooring of an airborne airplane.

Sharp pain had shot into Carlon's belly, as Phillipe had sneaked into Carlon's flank and stabbed him. The blade had barely grazed the internal intestines, but Phillipe was rewarded for his efforts with a swift kick, having enough force to launch Phillipe face-first into a canopy window, shattering it, cutting his eye with glass, and depressurizing the room. Another gunshot from a henchmen out from Carlon's view was also rewarded, but with a fireball into the face.

During The Overlord's tussle with Phillipe's henchman, Viola and Kiki had went to Phillipe's aid and helped him away from the carnage, no doubt regretting their decision to bring an overlord on an airplane, and regretting to take into account his spells. They were probably banking on The Overlord only being able to use his spells when only his armor was equipped. Or perhaps they were too prideful and regarded The Overlord's magical nature as rumor and superstition? What they didn't know was that the spells was tied to the current overlord, rather than the armor. So long as the current overlord lived, the spells would be casted by him as he wishes and wills.

"What the hell is goi-" The Overlord immediately reacted, ready to cast another spell when he needed. Carlon paused when he noticed that this particular individual was wearing a pilot's uniform. Well... This is awfully convenient. The pilot stopped from ending his sentence when he saw what had caused two deaths and the cabin to depressurize.

"Do you know how to fly back to Stilwater?" Carlon shouted, amidst the torrent of air that filled the aircraft.

The pilot did not answer.

"Huh..." Carlon reached to the pilot with his left hand, summoning the evil presence spell to convert a willful being into an enslaved follower. Electricity licked the pilot's brain till all of his free will was stripped.

Once Carlon was done, he ceased his magic and waited for the response he wanted. "... I will fly this plane back to Stilwater, master." He droned.

Carlon smirked, but then grew surprised as men and women with guns quickly filled the room he was in. Shit. Carlon ducked and rolled into cover, regretting the fact that he did not have his armor. In fact, now that he was crouching and was now looking at his legs, all he was wearing at the moment was a black, dirty, sweaty, long sleeved woolen shirt, with long legged woolen pants, and wool socks, all slightly burnt from his previous spell. Thanks to the bullets, it had holes that leaked blood that dirtied the shirt further. Carlon had to act fast, and now if he wanted to survive the onslaught forced onto him. At least these henchman were focusing on him and not on the pilot with odd sparking eyes that dully went past them.

Carlon briefly flashed his combustion spell and retreated, banking on his enemies being distracted by the fire to buy him time to escape. Regretfully, he had nearly expended all of his mana in that last effort.

Carlon found himself in a different room in the plane, but saw a group of aggressors approaching him from way down the hallway. It couldn't be helped. Carlon had to resort to his physical skills to survive. Even though Carlon would prefer violence with his axe at the ready, and minions in his command, he would have to find a means to an end through more baser methods. Good thing that his muscles was finely developed what with his running around in heavy armor. He launched forward, kicking and punching at the assaulting group of henchmen. One had went down with three swipes onto his head, while a second had got his knee kicked in, then had his face kneed into. When a third henchman tried to kick down Carlon, Carlon had grabbed at the offending leg and used it as leverage, pulling him down only to stomp on his face and head. Now there were two henchmen that remained. A henchman launched himself at Carlon, knocking him down. The remaining henchman proceeded to help his partner and started kicking at Carlon's side.

This wouldn't do. Carlon, with his superior strength, kicked up and threw his foe off of himself, turned to the other henchman and scissored at his legs, forcing him to trip. Once down, Carlon sat up and elbowed the henchman's gut, then performed a rising uppercut attack. The last henchmen was then dealt with via Carlon jumping up high and landing his knees onto his neck, resulting in a sickening series of snaps. Carlon was soon feeling groggy, wooziness with slight blood loss with the stab wounds and bullets prior, and fatigue from fighting what seemed like every henchman in this blasted plane. But upon getting a breather, he pressed on.

"Attention passengers, this is your captain speaking." Said a droning voice in the airline speaker system. "Our flight plan has been updated, and so we shall fly back towards Stilwater, as per requested by my master."

"Que diable est-ce que tu fais? Je n'ai pas donné d'ordre tel! Et ce que l'enfer est erroné avec vos yeux?!"

"Please remain seated at all times, and praise The Overlord!"

"GET THIS DOOR OPEN!"

The Overlord shrugged his shoulders and made his way down. With the intercom activated by the captain, Carlon would very much assume that he was heading to the rear-end of the airplane. Ah well. So long as Carlon made their numbers dwindle, he would get closer to his goal of getting back to the netherworld and figuring out what to do next.

A henchmen. But with a gun this time. Shit.

A sudden shift in the balance of the plane changed everyone's footing in the flying vessel. Even the man with the gun. That gave Carlon the time he needed as he bolted forward, with his shackled arms brought forward to protect his face, and slammed into the pistol shooter.

"My apologies, passengers. Someone attempted to pull me from the control column. It would please everyone to know that the copilot has been reprimanded via termination. Mind the air in the cargo hold, passengers. The copilots face damaged the cargo door controls."

After a righteous pummel, the henchman laid dead.

Carlon groaned as his fists felt raw and bloodied. His body was becoming incredibly sore as time went on. Bullet wounds tend to do that when you don't tend to them. Though, in lack of a weapon, Carlon looked upon the gun that Phillipe's men had tried to use on him. Dammit. As much as Carlon thought against ignoring Gnarl's teaching in refraining to use hand-me-down weapons, Carlon was at an impasse as he is literally armorless and weaponless against dangerous odds. And with only a lick of magic remaining to save him, he needed to resort to alternate methods of survival.

Begrudgingly picking up the pistol, he held it in the similar manner that the dead henchman had wielded it. The concept was fairly straightforward. Just point the barrel at what you want destroyed and pull the trigger. The 'pointing' part might take some skill, as well as keeping track how much of this 'ammo' stuff is in the clip. Carlon was not familiar with gun jargon, but now is not the time, as time itself was at a premium.

With pistol in hand, Carlon proceeded forward to the next compartment.

Someone else had tried to open the door he was opening, and the sudden appearance of yet another henchman prompted Carlon to shoot him at point blank. The loud bang of the pistol in his hand shook his hand, as the shot landed off-center in the throat. After a few seconds of realization, Carlon huffed and looked at his pilfered pistol again. Even if such a weapon wasn't as brutal as an axe that can set things on fire, it still had its lethal bite. Oh well. As the expression goes, 'Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.'

After delivering a coup de grace to the fallen henchman with a bullet to the skull, and pilfering his pistol ammo, Carlon continued to the next compartment that was the cargo bay, wind now being whipped around and complaining over the cargo doors being opened. Bullets swarmed Carlon as he went down the cargo bay stairs and ducked between expensive cars and aircraft cargo. Carlon would slowly peek around corners with his pistol at the ready and aim his gun, careful to keep his profile as unexposed as he could get it. Truth be told, Carlon had terrible aim when it came to firearms. But now was not the time to regret the past, which was refusing to go to the shooting range. Why would an overlord ever need a gun when he had the mana to make perfectly good fireballs to throw, or when his minions did his fireball throwing for him? Alas, since Carlon was with neither, he would have to practice fast with a pistol. And since he was without his armor, ducking and dodging bullets will be the only protection against flying lead.

"Mastah~?"

Amidst the bullet fire, Carlon looked to the voice that called to him. Some of his minions was on this plane. What luck! After shooting down his current aggressors, Carlon set to work in opening one of the aircraft cargo boxes that he believed contained his minions. Ruining the container padlock with pistol rounds and opening it, he saw two brown minions that was heavily tied in dense rope, and with a sack on their head. What happened to the other two? Carlon decided that that didn't matter. So long as he reacquired as many minions from the plane's cargo as fast as possible, he could take the plane over and fly it back to Stilwater.

The intercom sounded again. "Master, I'm afraid I cannot serve you much longer. I would recommend quickly finding a parachute and donning it to yourself, in case the plane starts to fall."

"Why the fuck are you doing this? I will triple your salary and double whatever Mr. Overlord offered you if you remain on our previous course."

"All hail The Overlord!"

"Then you leave me no choice. Get in there and stop him!"

"Master, get ready to use any parachute you find, once you find one!"

... Shit!

Carlon shot several times at the knot of one of the minions binds. "Release the other minion. I'll look for any others here."

One of the browns wiggled out of his binds, lifted the sack off his head, and smiled idiotically as he saw his master once more. "Yes Mastah! ... Um... What happened to shiny armor?"

Carlon ignored the minion and continued on, focusing on finding the rest of his minions, all the while shooting back at the henchmen that shot at him. Carlon found another container that contained scorch marks on it. He could only assume that it contained a red minion. After breaching its contents, he found that this red minion had chains instead of a rope, with a bag that was not made of burlap. Whatever it was, it was taken off after the lock on the minion's chains was shot off. It could be some kind of fireproof sack of some sort.

But it was at that moment that all hell broke loose.

The plane suddenly shifted, forcing the contents within the cargo hold to break from their restrains and start sliding. The plane was rising upward, and much of the cargo hold's contents spilled out from the cargo doors, Carlon and all.

Carlon flailed as he went into free fall in what seemed to be nighttime in the night air. Cool air rushed passed as Carlon tried to right himself. He looked to the ground and saw a wide, black expanse approaching him quickly, amidst the moons and stars that lay above, where additional light of a cityscape helped break the darkness of the night.

At the brief moment of being distracted during his fall, a body collided with Carlon that grabbed onto him. Twisting around, Carlon saw that it was yet another henchman. Carlon elbowed him in the face and knocked him unconscious, taking whatever pistol ammo that he brought. Sadly, all he had was smg ammo. Bullets flew by as several other henchman was descending at the same speed as Carlon and his unconscious victim. Cursing his luck, Carlon used the unconscious henchman as a shield as the only cover available to him, while shooting at the falling enemies.

After the descending deviants were dealt with, Carlon inspected the unconscious body he wielded. A smile grew on Carlon as he saw that the henchman he held onto was wearing a non-deployed parachute backpack. Carlon undressed the henchman of his parachute and kicked him away. He just needed to put it on while falling at terminal velocity, all the while having wind rushing past ever so violently.

After quickly trying to match how the henchman wore his parachute, The Overlord stopped himself from pulling the primary cord. He paused, remembering that he had minions with him.

SHIT!

He looked down and spotted a few flailing bodies of minions. Since there was three minions, the first he saved must have been successful in helping his tribe brother. And there was the red minion too, flailing like the browns. Well... At least he found them. Bringing his arms to his body and tilting himself forward, he descended faster through the air.

After dodging many cars left and right, The Overlord finally caught up to his minions. He grabbed at the browns and the red. "Hold on to me!" he shouted. They all agreed as they hugged him tight, which prompted Carlon to deploy his primary chute. A sudden yank later, Carlon and company dangled in relative safety. Caron was able to catch his breath after being lambasted by the wind's constant retort. But Carlon felt pain in his genitals too. One of the buckles wasn't positioned properly, which had caused Carlon an intense amount of pain. It didn't help that he had to carry three more minions on his person too.

"Hooh~. That scary." A minion said, next to his ear.

"... Mastah, are we not getting minions down there?" Another minion said, pointing to cargo containers that were falling fast.

"Hgrghn... They are... Hnf... on their own." Carlon said, his body and privates screaming in pain. He could have sworn that a bullet was squeezed out of his body because of the parachute harness.

"Hrmm. Okay."

"... Master, what that thing over there?" A red minion said, pointing to the distance.

Carlon felt tempted to just throw off the extra weight when he noticed what his red minion was pointing at. Carlon paled when he noticed that an airplane had somehow turned direction during its flight, and was now headed straight for him. "... Plane."

"Is it getting closer?"

"Uhh... Yeah." Carlon replied.

"... What we do?"

"Uhh... Hmm." Carlon had scant seconds to think up a plan. His mind rushed as it filled with adrenaline and slight loss of blood. After brief hesitation, Carlon had finally deduced that there had to be no margin of error. "Okay, here's a plan. You minions dive down and find any remaining trapped minions in the cargo containers. I'll meet back up with you."

"Oh. Okay Mastah!" One of the minions said, releasing from Carlon and diving down into the floating debris. The other minions followed suit and dived down with him.

Carlon had to keep in mind to catch up to them again when he somehow survived the collision of a plane flying right at him. That is of course they hadn't made an impact with the ground first.

Carlon pointed his stolen smg and aimed at the cockpit of the plane, not caring if he ran out of ammo.

He flew through the cockpit window and plummeted through the many corridors of the plane.

He fired his stolen smg at anything that resembled Phillipe's henchmen.

He flew and landed onto a henchman, crushing into his rib cage and killing him on impact.

After Carlon had 'fallen' out of the plane again, his heart was pumping so hard that it felt like it would burst from his chest. "Huuuuuuughh~! Never again!" Carlon complained. Just as he was trying to calm down, just as he was back in free fall yet again, more henchmen decided to join Carlon and shoot at him. "OH COME THE FUCK ON! GRAH!"

With a wave of his wrist, his inferno spell activated and ignited the falling pursuers, making them flail as they fall. Sadly, that was the very last of The Overlord's mana, completely depleting him of his mana reserves. The good news to this is that all the henchmen wasn't shooting at him anymore. But the bad news to this was that too much time was spent and that Carlon was even closer to the ground than before. All Carlon had to do now was-

Another henchman collided into Carlon, making him grit his teeth in frustration. These people who work for Philippe were very persistent in trying to take him down. After a snap of the neck, Carlon went to work on removing the dead body's parachute backpack, then releasing the corpse to the element of rushing air. Carlon then donned the fresh parachute onto himself, careful to make sure that the belts and buckles were in the right places this time around.

Anyway, all Carlon has to do now was meet up with his minions and hopefully regroup. Carlon descended further, maneuvering past cars and cargo and looking out for his minions. He found four minions, aided by a blue, on a box already, though they were having difficulty trying to pry it open. Carlon glided to them and decided to assist them. No sense in wasting too much time when the floor of the world is approaching fast. Upon opening the final cargo container, Carlon found a green minion within that was, oddly enough, covered with what seemed like paint and several green tranquilizer darts. None the less, Carlon pulled the green minion out and shouted to everyone. "Alright! Everyone hold on tight!" As all the minions, 2 browns, 1 red, 1 green and 1 blue, clung to him as close as they can, Carlon activated his new parachute. This time around, his nads did not suffer the repercussion of a sudden tightness, followed by pain.

The parachute strained to keep the extra weight, but it held taught, though one could think that it could break any time soon. But it held. One of the minions glubbed in relief. "Glub! I am happy to see again! And am happy to see master too! ... Where is we?"

"Above a city, blue." Another minion said, pointing to a cityscape in the distance. "But not Silwater. Roads look different. Buildings too. Smell funny in the air here."

"You think there is gates made there? I miss home..."

"Me want to, maybe, not go home yet. Me might get lot of talking downs by Gnarl."

"Everyone quiet." Carlon growled. After that, all the minions stopped talking. After that, it was nothing more than a quiet parachute ride down to the nearby city in the vast blackness. Carlon, injured and fatigued as he is, is seething with rage, but was self contained at the moment. Once The Overlord got back to ground level, he would focus on getting back what was stolen, conquering this new city, and smiting the new enemy that tried to seize much of his assets. Not in any order, mind you.

In short, whoever was in The Syndicate or whatever it was, is going to suffer greatly. That much Carlon would assure.

* * *

Viola and Kiki was tidying the ruined interior of Phillipe's office, moving charred bodies to the side. One of the sisters lighted Phillipe's cigarette as he placed it onto his lips, where he went forward onto a swiveling chair, which was righted upwards before he would sit upon it. Then he turned to the screen, which was now showing two faces. One dressed in black and blue, with black spiked hair and gothic makeup. The other seemed like a masked wrestler, having a mask with green and red accents, who wore a black shirt with a green tie.

"Gentlemen," Phillipe Loren began. "negotiations were... less than successful. Viola and Kiki will spread the word: Steelport belongs to The Syndicate, and The Overlord and his pets are not welcome. But even I doubt that would stop him, seeing firsthand what he can do. Mr. Killbane, gather your Luchadores and bring me their leaders head. That or interfere with his actions. Mr. Miller, hack into The Overlord's accounts, and leave them nothing. The Overlord also has other sources to rely on, so you may need to be creative."

"Wait. The Overlord? THE Overlord? Mr. Loren, I apologize for speaking out loud on this matter, but have you done any sort of research on this person?" Mr. Miller said, nearly exclaiming.

"Research, Mr. Miller?" Phillipe questioned.

"Yes! I heard a lot about this guy and his 'minions' as people and those critters call themselves. He is responsible for much of the wholesale slaughter of half of the city, Stilwater. Rumor has it that he could conjure fire to his whim, and steal souls from the living!"

"Miller." Said Mr. Killbane. "Stop being a pussy."

"Yawuh? Eh, uh..."

"Silencieux." Interjected Philippe Loren. "Mr. Miller, I don't normally take stock in rumors. However, despite what I had seen today... I must confess that I should take extra precautions for the future."

Mr. Miller remained silent while Mr. Killbane groaned. "So what the hell did he do? Other than give you a facial?"

"If you really must know, he is responsible for second and third degree burns on several of my henchmen, arson to the inside of my private plane, and costing thousands of dollars in damages to losing much of the plane's cargo. I will not go into the details of the death toll."

Mr. Miller audibly whispered "Cripes..." While Mr. Killbane raised an eyebrow.

Phillipe Loren straightened his posture up and cleared his throat. "Anyway. Since the negotiation had... been less than successful, the assets we have attained from Mr. Overlord will be divided among the different parties, as we have agreed."

"Right, right." Mr. Miller said, nodding. "I guess I'll try and find someone who can appraise the suit of armor I got."

"Getting a glowing axe is not what I had in mind. I can't just set it down and let it burn the carpet. I would rather break it in half and let someone else deal with it."

"Mr. Killbane," Philippe Loren said in a terse tone. "The item you have gained is your bargain chip. Destroying it may ruin your chances of gaining a financial trade in the future. But for the moment, I ask you that you hold onto it for the time being until I can find a buyer for us."

"And let me guess... You keep the vermin. Hah! Not something I would expect for someone who deals in guns and prostitution."

"It has been decided, Mr. Killbane. Just hold the axe, and deal with Mr. Overlord and his plans."

"... Right."

* * *

 **A/N: Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Hard to work on when I got other projects too. Lots of fun stuff~**


	5. The Overlord is in Steelport

Chapter 5: The Overlord is in Steelport

* * *

Carlon, with minions clambering on his person as he descended, finally made safe landfall as his feet reached solid ground. The minions that clung to his person jumped off and stretched their limbs and exhaled in unison, then promptly fell flat onto the ground and got a chance to relax. Carlon shuffled forward and dropped to his knees and groaned, but sought to balance himself with a nearby concrete rail. Suffice to say, Carlon was not having a good day today. Or night, at the moment. Not many people would, when they have been captured, stripped of their armor and weapons, and then shot at constantly while falling in the air. But the most important thing to Carlon right now was that he was still alive. He had somehow landed on a street that was below a bridge. Carlon was in an area where there was a lot of pink light. Carlon shook his head, trying to shake the fatigue from his mind and trying to think of a way to contact his advisor. Without his helmet, he was royally screwed.

"The fuck?"

Carlon froze, then slowly turned and looked up to see a portly Caucasian man in a gray suit with black shoes, wearing black sunglasses and black hair that was styled in a comb-over. He turned away from a... scantily clad woman of sorts... when he heard the fabric of a deployed parachute dragging across the ground and catching his attention. The woman, upon seeing the injured man, slowly left. She didn't want to deal with that shit. Carlon stood up and groaned in pain. "What are you looking at?" He said, gesturing to the portly man. This wasn't good. If someone recognized him as the overlord of Stilwater, an alarm would be raised. In his current condition, he couldn't fight any more rabble.

"You tell me." Said the portly man, not sure whether or not to call the police or run away. Truth be told, many people would be too confused and dumbstruck to run away from the sudden appearance of a man with glowing eyes and a bunch of... things that hanged onto him.

Speaking of things, Carlon subtly motioned behind himself with a sign that said 'guard that spot'. Carlon didn't look away so that he wouldn't divert the portly man's attention to the minions that was behind himself. Carlon wasn't sure how far away his minions was, but he hoped that they saw him signaling them to stay put. "... Actually, here's a more important question. Where am I?" Carlon said, righting himself up, and trying to keep his eyes from being seen.

"Uh... Steelport. You are in Loren Square, in the Downtown District."

"Ghhuh Loren? Gh..." Carlon felt slight spasms of pain as he stood straight up and exerted himself, his bullets wounds beneath his black woolen sweater and leggings feeling like they were crying in agony. Carlon was in no condition to fight as he is now. He very much needed to contact Gnarl as soon as possible. And with a stroke of idiotic remembrance, a plan formed. Thank evilness that he convinced Gnarl to install a telephone line into the netherworld. "I'm too wounded, and tired to deal with this right now. You wouldn't happen to have a cell phone? I need to make a call." Carlon said to the portly man, approaching him and squinting his eyes in pain.

"Uh... Sure, I suppose." The portly man said, reaching into his pocket and shakily giving Carlon his cellphone. "... Are you blind, by the way?"

Carlon grabbed the cellphone and called up a number he remembered. "I can't see too clear from far away at the moment. Could be blood loss. Now, be quiet. I need to make this call." After the number was dialed, Carlon waited patiently for the call to go through. Carlon remembered, again, out of idiotic remembrance, that the netherworld had several technological installments after a few years of living in this new dimension. Even though the cable box was destroyed with an axe and it prevented the minions from watching any television or going on the internet, the telephone network, thankfully, didn't rely on cable.

Gnarl: Greetings! You have reached the netherworld administrative offices of evil, and city enforcement! By calling this private number, then it can only mean that you sought us out beforehand, gained our favor, received a number of which to contact us, and now wish to employ our services for nefarious deeds. If you want to make a report on a trouble maker, press one. If you want to report contraband being held at a location or by a person, press two. If you want a building to be demolished, press three. If you wish to donate, press four. If you want to inquire about any job openings, press five. For other options, press six.

*doot* Carlon pressed the number 6 dial on the cellphone.

Gnarl: Here are the miscellaneous other options. Press one if you wish to hear about the commonly asked questions and their answers. Press two to schedule a meeting. Press three if you want to learn when we are open to the public. Press four if you wish to open a business and acquire a certified business license. Press five if you wish to hear the many achievements of The Overlord of Stilwater by the musical talent of Quaver, the jester. Press six if you wish to file a complaint.

*doot* Carlon pressed 6 again.

Gnarl: Oh really? Such an ungrateful cretin, you are! If you had even an iota of respect, you would not complain at all! The Overlord, by his grace and might, has allowed many people to live comfortable lives in the city that he has conquered, and subjugating the troublemakers to a lifetime of servitude, or death. Do you think you would waste our time by listing all the problems that you have with us? Why I never! You must be the scummiest of scum to have the gal of annoying us with your pestering! If it were up to me, I would take a potato peeler to your feet and slice off all the skin. After that, I would force you to run across a bed of lemons and hot coals! If I was in a particularly good mood, I would force feed you poisonous mushrooms and push you into a room full of knives and needles, letting your sanity shatter within. But so help me if I learn that this is a prankster trying to prank call us, then I will not grant you the easy satisfaction of being tortured, and simply throw you into a deep chasm! Do you know what it's like falling forever? I'll tell you. It's about as boring as watching paint dry! Sure, there is the constant wind in your face, but that's about it. After a while, you begin to starve and get thirsty. And after too long, if you were especially unlucky to have a full bladder before descending forever, you would-

*doot* Carlon remembered this part of the phone recording to be an hour long, so he pressed 6 one more time. He knew well enough about Gnarl's interactive voice response system that by pressing 6 at this part of the automated system, he would speak to a representative at the office. Not only that, Gnarl, for some reason unfathomable to understand, loves the sound of his own voice. A receiver picked up.

Gnarl: This is Minion Master Gnarl. Could you please call me at another time? We are currently... indisposed at the moment.  
Carlon: Indisposed? Yeah, sure. And I can wait when I am in another city without my equipment or help to back me up.  
Gnarl: ... SIRE? How in all the infernal abysses?!  
Carlon: Calm down. I just ended up being captured in the most embarrassing and retarded way possible.  
Gnarl: Well yes, I figured that! I just didn't expect that you would be calling this number in this lifetime! But to more pressing matters. Are you... Still contained against your will presently?  
Carlon: I escaped, actually.  
Gnarl: Ah! Well I suppose even an old minion like me could still be surprised every now and then. And to think that I ever doubted myself! I thought I would never see you again! Can you tell me your coordinates?  
Carlon: Not really. All I know is that I'm in the Downtown Loren District, in Steelport. I appear to be next to a bridge overpass, or something. And... I think I'm in a red-light area.  
Gnarl: Red-light area? Care to... extrapolate on that?  
Carlon: *sigh* There's a giant pair of tits under the overpass and there are several signs that says there's a playhouse down here. Owned by some guy named Charlie for some reason? I'm thinking that it's a gentleman's club. But anyway, not relevant. Get a waypoint gate here.  
Gnarl: ... ... ... Right! Um. Well. I'll get a minion digger to your location as quick as I can. It will take a few minutes or so, so... sit tight.

Carlon pressed the red hangup button on the portly man's cell phone and gave it back to him. The portly man was reluctant to receive his cell phone, but he did. The portly man watched Carlon slowly limp over to a wall and leaned onto it. For some reason, this prompted the portly man to start asking questions. "Are uh... You okay?"

Carlon looked up at the portly man with a stern stare. "... I'm alive, but far from 'okay'."

"Do you need... medical help? I know where a hospital is."

Carlon growled. "I don't need any more help at the moment. Stop trying to be my friend and fuck off already."

The portly man huffed at this. "Hey! I let you use my phone! I would think that I would be privy to SOME kind of kindness." He said, crestfallen yet agitated.

"Hahahahaha*cough*aaugh... ah... Sorry, Fatty. I just happen to be prodigiously tuckered of civil niceness. Bullet holes in a torso tends to do that."

The portly man's face contorted into a piggish scowl. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Someone who is close to dying, and is not about to entertain some peasant." Carlon said plainly.

"Peasant? Jesus, you sound like one of those hoity toity English aristocrats. Though I don't think I know of one with bright eyes like yours. You definitely don't look like one either."

"Heheh... I am not an aristocrat. Aristocrats are people that are too lazy to keep their wealth protected. They leach on the wealth of the lower classes and of the land. Plus, I heard that they love to inbreed." Carlon said, stifling a laugh from causing further pain to himself.

"... I suppose. But what does that make you?"

"Their enemy."

The portly man had nothing else to say to that. After a moment, he decided to settle himself next to Carlon, on the wall that Carlon was leaning on. "So uh... I don't think I got your name yet. I'm Richard."

"... Carlon. I have to ask. Do you really want to go down the road of making friends with me?"

"Eh, call it an occupational hazard. I'm a social worker, so it comes naturally for me to help people in need."

"Social worker? So... Like... You work for people by being social for them?"

"Hahaha ahh, no not exactly. You see, I work with people, be it individuals and or families that have disabilities of their physical, mental, behavioral, and emotional status that make it difficult for them to interact and mesh with society."

"Sounds like charity work." Carlon said, not liking Richard already.

"It's not charity if you're getting paid to do it."

"Oh... Well never mind then. ... But uh... Why is a social worker... Well... Here?" Carlon said, gesturing to the red-light district.

"Ah... Well uh... Let me say, in my defense that uh... I was browsing! Yeah... Browsing."

"... Mm."

"... So uh... Why is someone like you here?"

"Oh. I parachuted from a plane that was keeping me captive at the time. I escaped the people on that plane, but as you can see from the bullet holes," Carlon said, showing Richard the damage on his body. "they didn't want me to leave alive."

"Fuckin A! Who the hell did you piss off?"

"Oh, some people called The Syndicate."

"... Uh. ... Yeah, I think that, uh... Yeah, maybe it was a bad idea to try and be friends with you." Richard said, deciding to finally start creeping away.

"What's so bad about The Syndicate? You know em?" Carlon said, eyeing Richard.

"Uh, no no, not personally. They just happen to be very bad people that comprises of gangsters and gang members that has taken up shop in this city. But... Uh... Yeah, I think it's time for me to go and do something completely different. Listen. As a friend to another, try not to get on The Syndicate's bad side. I heard stories over what they are known to do. Terrible stories."

Carlon cocked his head. "Like what?"

"Can't say. Not here, anyway. But uh... Yeah." And with that, Richard turned and walked away.

Carlon stared as Richard walked off and shook his head. Useless peasant. There was a slight rumble nearby as a netherworld waypoint gate erupted out of the ground. Carlon sighed in relief as he rounded a corner with a weak shamble. Upon nearing the waypoint, he called forth his minions. "Alright, let's go home!"

And with that, Carlon finally returned to his place of power.

* * *

Gnarl paced back and forth, no doubt impatient about having his master return to him. Other than that, there was other issues that was bugging the minion master's mind too. He finally turned to call onto some minions. "Boog, Griddle, are you done yet?"

"Not yet, Gnarl. We is still burning!"

"Keep at it then! I don't want the master to come here and see one of the-... Too late!" A shuffle of stonework from above signaled the arrival of their long lost master.

The chandelier/claw opened up and revealed Carlon. The chandelier/claw descended to the floor and placed Carlon on it before coming back up to rest in its neutral position. Carlon slumped to the ground and painfully moaned. "Ghh."

Minion master Gnarl practically rushed to his master. "Sire! Thank evilness your back! ... What happened to your armor?"

"Filched by a bunch of people from an organization called The Syndicate. I think they make their homestead in Steelport, from what I gathered." Carlon grunted.

"Steelport, aye? Well, you can be sure that we will conquer that miserable town and erase this Syndicate people from the face of this Earth! First things first, however, you need to recover from your recent... ah... escapade. Let's get you to your private quarters posthaste."

"Mm... Mm?" Carlon sniffed at the air and curled his nose. "Is something burning?"

"Oh ah... Well... Something is always burning down here, sire. One should expect that when deadly lava is used as a decoration to a tower."

"No, it's not like a lava burn, it's more like... a regular burn." Carlon followed the smell up the stairs and found two minions bickering over a pile of burning posters. A brown minion would fill a wheelbarrow some posters and dump it into the burn pile, while a red minion got to work igniting it.

"Ah... Sire. What about your health?" Gnarl said as he fidgeted.

Carlon reached down and read one of the posters. Carlon's eyes widened as he read what was printed. He turned to Gnarl. "What about this?" He growled.

Gnarl flinched and started kneeling. "Ah! Forgive me, my lord! I have lost in the hope that you would return in a posthaste manner! Once I felt as though you were forever lost to us, I sought to... Well... Have the minions create these posters."

Carlon growled at Gnarl. "So you were going to have 'Overlord Tryouts', and it would be only when I was no longer here to command you all?"

"Uh... In all honesty, sire, you were only gone for a day and a half."

Carlon crumpled up the poster and threw it into the fire that Griddle was managing. He then pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't have the energy for this. I need to heal and rest first. After that... You..." Carlon said, pointing threateningly at Gnarl with a rage infused finger. But then Carlon stopped pointing and continued his way to the private quarters, limping along the way.

Gnarl looked as though he was about to have a heart attack. Even though he wasn't having a heart attack, he was wishing that he had one. Which would be rather silly, since a blue minion would come by and revive the old minion anyway. Even then, Gnarl still wished that he still succumbed to a heart attack due to how severe Carlon's punishments can be. not in the way that having a heart attack would lessen the punishment that Carlon had for him, but Gnarl still wanted to add a little extra punishment onto himself. Even though Gnarl would only wait till a week has passed before posting up the posters in the streets, he was a servant to evil first. And since evil has returned, things would get back on track.

But then some other thoughts addled into Gnarl's mind. _Just who are these people who called themselves The Syndicate?_ Gnarl thought.

* * *

 **A/N: And now the forces of evil have a new target to play with. :D  
**


	6. Needing Replacements and Guns

Chapter 6: Needing Replacements and Guns

* * *

Carlon was groaning as the blue minions fussed over his wounds. Even though blue minion magic could heal any wounds on any minion worth their salt in evil, such magic can only do so little on a larger entity like their master. Though the minions took care of his injuries, via digging out each lodged bullet with a careful claw and sewing up the wounds with stitching, the blue minions would go to work with the careful weaving of their overlord's flesh. True, putting on a suit of armor that had healing enchants could help close the wounds quickly in a relatively similar fashion, but the bullets would remain in the flesh and become sealed in, resulting in lead poisoning. The bullets would then have to be dug out of the sealed flesh in the case of the latter.

Carlon was currently in his private quarters, a place of power that had once belonged to his father, which was now handed down to his son, which was Carlon, long ago. A library had recently been built through the use of cooling streams of lava rock into an alcove-like formation that hanged over nothingness, aka the chasm below. Minions that were not brown were forbidden from entering the library, and minions that were not Gnarl were forbidden from taking a book to try and read it. They mostly tried to read pin-ups and smut magazines, but minions will be minions nonetheless. The reasons why red, green and blue minions were not allowed inside is simple to understand. Reds would burn the paper, greens would sully the binding, and blues would moisten the shelves. A gym was also built down here, just in case there were too many free days and Carlon decided to get in shape. It was typically filled with various machines and devices that helped build muscle and burn fat. The treadmill was usually reserved for leg day.

After the last bullet was picked out of his last wound, the wound was stitched and tended to a blue's magic. After only ten seconds or so under the healing aura, the stitching was pulled out to let the flesh relax, remaining taught after only being treated seconds later. "All done. Nasty bullets no longer in master." The blue minion said, tossing the bowl of bloody bullets out an opening to the outside of the underground tower.

Carlon laid still on his bed and carefully touched himself to see if there were any open wounds that his minions missed. There was no sharp or throbbing pain, which was a good sign. No internal discomfort that signaled a bullet that was forgotten and healed over, which was another good sign. The next thing to do was get into a clean pair of non-bloody clothes. Carlon raised himself off of his bed, draped only in boxers which did little to cover his seemingly burgeoning muscles and wandered over to a set of clothes that Gnarl had set for Carlon. Wool sweater, wool pants, wool socks and wool gloves. Wool clothing was a necessity to wear, since it can endure hot or cold climates. Especially in a volcanic environment. The gloves might be a bit much to some, but Carlon needed even gloves for that needed added protection.

After donning the wool clothes, Carlon proceeded to give the blue minions that healed him a customary thanks, which was by pushing them out of his path and grunting a 'mm' that told them that they were in his way. After bypassing his servants of evil, Carlon exited his private quarters. He traveled down some steps and eventually found his way to the throne room. Small streams of lava and some errant torches provided light to the place, and Carlon found Gnarl on his throne with a laptop in his lap, slowly clicking the keys with his claws as an elderly man would. Kind of adorable in a deplorable way, but Carlon wouldn't say that out loud to the world. Carlon made a single cough to get Gnarl's attention.

Gnarl perked up. "Oh! ah, sire! I trust that you have healed well?"

"Flesh is flesh, though mine is a little soft and scabbed at the moment." Carlon replied.

"Well, sometimes wounds need a little scabbing before they get better, don't they?" Gnarl turned back to his laptop. "In any case, I have been using the internet to do some investigating on these 'Syndicate' people that once had captured you. Apparently, they just so happen to have made their homestead in Steelport, and are nothing more but a rabble of gangs cavorting together to form their organization."

"Gangs? ... You mean, we have to deal with more than one?"

"Yes, master! Looks like you're going to be contending with people of criminal motives once again. Oh, it reminds me of the bad ol' days!"

"So it'll be like dealing with The Saints all over again? Huh! I nearly forgotten about my old annoyances from the past! I kind of missed cleaving them with my axe."

"Well, you're in luck, sire. You will be dealing with three gangs at once now. The Syndicate consists of Morningstar, who deals in guns, human trafficking and prostitution. The Deckers, who specialize in laundering money and... Er. Cybercrimes? I don't know what that is, but moving on. And The Luchadores. They seem to be in the business of drugs and gambling."

"Mm. Anything we can learn about their facilities? Building blueprints and the like?"

"Well, that might take a bit of time, but I'll see if I can... Wait... Oh..."

Carlon leaned over to look over Gnarl's shoulder. "Something wrong?"

"Eh, this confounded portable computer is giving me difficulty. I think I would have less difficulty with one of those glow slates that the youth carry around. But I digress. This thing just gets slower every time I use it and I hate the bloody thing as is!"

"A fitting punishment, no?" Carlon said, chuckling.

Gnarl looked back at Carlon with a toothed scowl, but then rolled his yellow eyes and nodded. "... Oh alright. You got me there, sire. As ever, you are cruel and unusual in your punishment. ... Hmm?" Gnarl's laptop screen showed a small window that stated that the internet wasn't working. Followed by a blue screen of death. "Oh confound it!" Gnarl shouted, throwing the laptop onto the floor. Gnarl then proceeded to get off of The Overlord's throne and stomped on the computing device. "Stupid bloody pointless thing! Grah!"

Carlon chuckled again. "Alright, enough already. We know enough of our enemy, so now we need to prepare. Onward to the forge." Carlon turned and headed for where he said he was going to go. Gnarl followed after him. After some well deserved kicks to the offending computer device.

* * *

Carlon was greeted with the warmth of nostalgia of the forge room, which also happened to be incredibly hot. The smelters of steel, durium and arcanium hanged over the main attraction of this very room, the forge. The forge stones, small pyramids of gray and yellow, hovered over seemingly nothing, levitating near the path that lead to the forge. Giblet had his welding mask down, tinkering and soldering with some kind of project that Carlon didn't care about. Gnarl decided to break the silence. "Giblet! Get over here! The master requires your presence."

Giblet practically threw away his metalworking equipment and perked his head up. He pushed away his project in a crash and ran to Gnarl and Carlon's presence. Giblet then stood up straight and saluted. "Giblet here! What can Giblet do for master?"

"I need another set of armor duplicated to the same specifications. You think you can do that?" Carlon asked.

"Yah, Giblet can do that, but..." Giblet seemed apprehensive.

"But?" Carlon repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Giblet not have enough fairy gemmys or dark crystals to work with. Not enough to doop-lick-ate masters lost armor and axe."

"Hmm... That is a bit of a pickle." Gnarl commentated.

Carlon shook his head and groaned. "Really? I thought we had more of the stuff!"

"No no, we did. Giblet just ended up using lots of it to make your mighty armor and weapon, and make replacement helmet from way long ago. Now though, Giblet run almost dry with all that stuff."

Carlon mused for a moment, thinking on how to best use his dwindling resources. "Hmm... ... ... ... ... How much fairy gems and dark crystals do we have for enchantments?"

"Just enough for three or so small en-chant-ments."

"Mm. ... Will we have some dark crystal and fairy gems remaining if we just tack a mana regeneration enchantment onto the armor?"

"Yes. Barely some, but yes."

"Then we can just use the smelters to smelt the minions into my equipment. I'm very sure we have enough precious materials to cover the cost."

"Even so, sire," Gnarl chimed in. "If you are to use these dumbed down equipment, you must be weary of the certain restrictions you would set onto yourself."

Carlon nodded and approached the forge. "Yeah yeah. I got it. Avoid using spells unless absolutely necessary. Giblet, I have a little idea over what I want. And some special designs for the armor." As Giblet watched his master approach the forge, it gave him the hidden cue to be ready.

* * *

Carlon returned to the throne room, wearing heavy and dense arcanium armor. It has plenty of protection thanks to the many minions that have been sacrificed into his equipment. The wool clothes underneath also added some protection from being chafed. Ah, the importance of wool! Because of the mana regeneration enchantment, it left significantly less room for the minion souls that was smelted within his armor. But once he felt safer with some means to replenish his mana over time, if barely, all that was needed was the minion soul smelting. The mana regeneration enchantment took about 20% of the enchantment saturation in his armor. Carlon decided to fill the rest of his armor with minion souls. 45% of Carlon's new armor was saturated with brown minion souls, and the 35% remaining empty unsaturated metal was smelted with red, green and blue minions.

It goes without saying that the choice of weapon was rudimentary in enchantments, being primarily filled with minion souls only. Equal parts brown and red minion souls, with the remaining 25% of unsaturated metal was filled with greens and blues. If it was not understood the moment he entered this dimension, he loved axes.

The helmet, though costing the most in resources, both minions and gold, was fairly straightforward. Fill it with all the minions one could muster and be done with it. Even though it is sad to know that the helmet was incapable of absorbing extra lifeforce or even attaining any extra helmet related enchantments, it would still be serviceable to an overlord of Carlon's standards. Thank evilness that he has acquired so much lifeforce during his stay in this dimension. Mostly brown lifeforce, but that was a given since there was barely nil of any magical elemental lifeforce to be found. Thank evilness again that there was desert lizards, poisonous insects, and waterlogged amphibians too. But at least it had an extra design to it, as dictated by Carlon. It had a puzzle mechanism within the helm that revealed a small padded storage space that was barely big enough to contain something the size of a coin, or a marble.

Carlon also carried one item with him, tied to a metal hoop that was within the hip part of his armor. A small sack filled with nether seeds. Trademarked by Gnarl a long time ago. It has the ability to establish netherworld gates, waypoint gates, and minion gates anywhere he pleased, provided that it was set upon open earth. Kind of explains why Carlon wanted to move fifty sacks of soil into The Stilwater First National Bank in the first place.

"I guess I'll need a name for this axe too." Carlon mused, swinging his replacement around experimentally. It'll burn and cut his enemies good, with that slight chance of dealing extra damage or knocking down enemies. It was the best as Carlon can get it when he could only use smelters to make a weapon.

Gnarl hobbled right after his Overlord. "It's only customary, sire. It's your weapon, after all."

Carlon nodded and inspected his downgraded axe. Moments of contemplation passed, but a good name just wasn't coming up for Carlon. His greatest murder weapon, Dirty Thunderstorm, was nothing compared to this... this woodcutters axe. Coincidentally, that gave Carlon the idea he needed. "... How about Forest Bane?"

"Simple, yet serviceable. Shall we venture into this new city and test our mettle?" Gnarl said, his voice cackling with glee.

"I'm thinking of walking around for a bit. Take in the sights before I ruin them." Carlon said, approaching the netherworld chandelier/claw for the purposes of activating it.

"Then I believe it's time to give you this." Gnarl said, handing Carlon what seemed to be a cellphone.

Carlon turned to look at the gift and eyed it condescendingly. "... What's this for?"

"It's one of those newfangled cellphones, sire. New in the market too! I hope you didn't mind, but I spent a little of the money we took from Stilwater to purchase this technological trinket. It's got a thing called a 'jee pee ess' system. I don't know what it means, but they said that it just shows where you are in an area with a digital map. Since we are lack of a map for where we are going, I estimated that this might help your conquering."

Carlon nodded his head and paused a little before reaching down and grabbing at it. After inspecting the cellphone, Carlon carefully stored it by inserting it into his right arm gauntlet. It wasn't exactly designed for that purpose, but at least it was snug and secured within. After that, Carlon turned and went to the chandelier/claw and activated it, enabling him to travel to the waypoint gate he last used.

* * *

The Overlord emerged, stepping onto the same slab of ground that he once landed on. Though his armor was not as hellish looking than the one he preferred, it would still be serviceable. The only regret he had at the moment was that the waypoint gate was bereft of any minion gates. Ah well. The minion diggers are within this area now. They will no doubt find perfect places to place appropriate gates. All Carlon had to do was stroll around and they would do all the work.

 _"Testing, testing, one two!"_ Gnarls voice blared over Carlon's ears.

"I can hear you fine, so stop shouting." Carlon said in an annoyed tone.

 _"Oh... There you are! Now then sire, the time is nigh that we venture into this new land to discover what weaknesses lies here."_

"You know, Gnarl. I think I might actually take my time on this one. No need to rush in and get caught and captured all over again."

 _"Well..."_ Gnarl said, as though contemplating. _"... I suppose it wouldn't hurt us to ease ourselves into this city, and be patient with dishing out our vengeance. Actually, that might give me time to ready some projects and plans I have been meaning to get into. If you need my presence, sire, just use your phone to contact me. I'll come back and give you some needed advice, like an old minion advisor will do. Oh, and for the love of all that is dark and pointy, don't get captured again!"_

Carlon rolled his eyes and started marching forward.

However, this was a big city. Getting somewhere on foot would take too long, and Carlon didn't feel like wasting too much time wearing out his new boots. A vehicle will provide the fastest form of travel.

Marching forward, Carlon eventually found what appeared to be a two door compact car. Carlon couldn't be picky, so he chose it as his temporary chariot. He yanked the door open and teared open the trim underneath the steering column. Hot-wiring a car should be easy. Right?

...

...

... All that could be seen under here was wires. It didn't help that Carlon had no experience in hot-wiring a car. "Fuck." Was Carlon's reply.

He sat in the car and thought on another way to start the vehicle. He knew that without the keys, the whole machine would just not come alive. It's not like he could just jam his thumb into the ignition and turn it on that way.

...

...

... Wait.

Carlon clenched his fist and stiffened his thumb, carefully aiming his thumb and ramming it into the ignition. With a firm twist, the car came alive. "Hehehe, there we go." Carlon said in renewed confidence. Who knew that a sturdy thumb could be used as an alternate key for the ignition?

Carlon drove away in his commandeered vehicle to view the sights and sounds of the new stomping grounds.

* * *

Overall, Carlon was a little impressed by the design of the city, but not so much of the condition it was in. Frankly, Carlon could do a whole lot better than The Syndicate and 'improve' some things here and there. Even though the dilapidated streets, run-down houses, hobo filled slums and rampant crime had their charms, fire can do so much in just a small amount. The only districts that Carlon took the most interest in was New Baranec, Rosen Oaks, and Burns Hill. He would take great care in modifying them with something more than just fire. Like... more fire. But that day will come later. One thing at a time.

Speaking of fire, Carlon spotted a store during his drive which had a sign that said 'Friendly Fire' in ostentatious bold letters above, surrounded by enlarged and fake ammunition and projectile weapons. Seems like a 'friendly' place. A place to buy guns, no doubt. Much like the stores that he sometimes perused in Stilwater. Driving to the curb and stopping, he got out and decided to enter the store. Whether or not he gets a parking citation didn't matter to him.

He sighed as he remembered that he has to stop relying on magic too often, since he now has less than his previous finite amount to work with, with stunted generation of mana. Guns and bullets will have to be a reliable alternative when magic is no longer viable in long term excursions. Though Gnarl would love the idea of forge master Giblet creating a custom gun for Carlon someday, the intricacies of gun smithing in minion standards is a far off dream. Well... Maybe not so much as a dream, but more of an imagining.

He entered the establishment, and found it to be sleazy and fit for the gun toting redneck types. Typical. Old wood perfumed the air a little, making Carlon's nose crinkle. But the unmistakable odor of gunpowder and destructive hardware mixed with the smell. He went to the cashiers desk, the cashier backing away and reaching for the holstered pistol on his hip when he saw the unusual customer strolling towards him. The cashier kind of looked like the western type, cowboy hat and everything. Albeit sporting a white mustache and seemed too fat to do anything other than waddle from one fridge to the next. "Ey, renaissance freak. You kinda rumaind me uv sumeone."

"... The feeling is mutual, Wilford Brimley. Jokes aside, I need a lot of your guns." Carlon said, attempting to steer the conversation from his identity as smoothly as he can.

The gruff man huffed and raised an eyebrow. "You wan sum guns? Well, yu caim to tha raight place. Got sum money an ID?"

"Let me get out my wallet." The Overlord said, reaching behind himself and then reaching his left hand toward the gun-store owner, forcing the evil presence spell into his mind. After the will was withered away to nothing, The Overlord ceased his spell and retained a more neutral stance. "There. I showed you my wallet. Give me what you got."

"Yes master." The fat cowboy gun-store clerk's eyes glowed and crackled with electricity, his expression being once of stern discipline had became listless and blank. The mark of the enslaved. He went behind the counter and fiddled around with various locks within the counter. After a while, he came back with several different guns, plus thrown projectiles.

Carlon looked down at the pile of weapons and frowned. The pile contained 2 KA-1 Kobra pistols, 2 TEK Z-10 sub-machine guns, a Grave Digger shotgun, with loads of ammunition for each weapon. Plus there was fragmentation grenades, Molotov cocktails, flashbangs, and... some kind of blue balls? "... What the hell? This is the best you got?"

"I don't hav much in stock. Lot of tha Morninstar fellers bought all mah high priced guns. These here are tha best I got so far, till tha next shipment comes in." The cashier blandly said.

Carlon sighed and picked up the available weapons, inspecting each and every one of them. He might as well keep his 45 Shepherd, but he will take the extra pistols and smgs. The shotgun he's not too impressed with, but it's better than nothing. "Shame I can't get better upgraded weapons than this."

"I can upgrade them fer you, if it pleases my master."

Carlon raised an eyebrow. "And will these upgrades be free?"

"Yes, my master."

"Alright then. Show me what you can do."

* * *

Carlon left Friendly Fire after several minutes of waiting for his weapons to be upgraded. When he got them back, he was moderately impressed over their final design. The original pistol he had, the 45 Shepherd, now carried exploding bullets. The KA-1 Kobra pistols would be able to pierce armor. The TEH Z-10 smgs can light enemies on fire and the Grave Digger shotgun now had three barrels and can also light enemies on fire. That wasn't all that the weapons was upgraded to do, but it was the only important upgrade information that Carlon took note of when he received them back. All at the fun price of $0, with complementary holsters for each weapon. Carlon decided to go with the Kobra pistols. Exploding bullets sounded like fun, but he didn't have a third arm to wield a 45 Shepherd.

 _"What in the blazes of hell do you have on you?"_ Gnarl said, in perfect timing.

"Decided to get some weapons. This will have to be a temporary alternative for ranged combat." Carlon said, getting back into his stolen car. "Are you already done with your projects?"

 _"Started actually, and on the back-burner for the moment. But my plans have now turned to action. I have decided to create an elite minion squad, and promoted the best minions of your horde into it!"_

"... Really? What makes them elite? What can a squad of elite minions even do?"

 _"What makes a minion elite is their ability to develop independence and cunning on their own volition. These special minions will consist of a task force where they can act in your best interests without you needing to command them! Anything that they can accomplish would really be for our benefit. This is just a necessary precaution, mind you."_

"A precaution?"

 _"Yes, sire! For example, if you ever get trapped again, the minion elite squad will break you out. Simple as that! But they can also work in reconnaissance, demolition, information gathering, assassination, and my favorite, causing mayhem! Just to list a few things..."  
_

"Who consists of the squad?"

 _"Considering the nature of circumstances, I have employed eight in the squad. Sadly, I would have wanted Giblet to be in it, but he's our best blacksmith, and one of my projects requires the use of his skill. But anyway, the squad consists of two browns, Mud the leader and Bill. Two reds, Flames and Bake. Two greens, Snake and Rake. And finally two blues, Heals and Coot."_

"Ooooh... The four that manage that internet television show? ... I guess I'm not so surprised."

 _"To be honest, they need to do something more productive than dance around in the limelight! And being in an elite minion squad is about the most productive thing they can achieve. The squad will have to be irregularly large, and that half will mainly consist of new recruits, but... I'm afraid that recent events have forced our hands to improvise."_

"Such as?"

 _"Finding where our captured minions and your stolen equipment went. Hopefully, with the increase to the elite squad numbers, they will find out where our kidnapped minions and your pilfered possessions went. If we're lucky, we might be able to find all of them in one place and in one piece. But considering that luck often works as a double edge sword... I'm likely to believe that all that was stolen from us has already been separated and is being kept in different locations."_

"Mm. I guess what I can do for now is test my acclimated firepower."

 _"It's a shame that you must don weapons wielded by peasants! Oh well. It's not how strongly the armor protects, it's how flexible the weapon is in a fight! What are you planning anyway?"_

"I spotted a military base during my tour around the city. I'm thinking about fucking it up." Carlon said, starting up the car and preparing to drive to his destination.

Carlon could hear Gnarl cackling on the other side of the conversation in his new helm. _"Murder, mayhem, and malice are my favorite words that start with the letter M. Go forth, my master, and teach those jar-heads the definitions of those words!"_

Carlon nodded and smirked, stepping on the 'go' pedal and moving away from Friendly Fire. The destination where havoc will be wrought: Sierra point.


	7. We're Going Base Stomping

Chapter 7: Were Going Base Stomping

* * *

Two guards mulled about at a checkpoint, walking past one another and changing direction next to two jeeps strategically positioned to disallow and hinder any would be intruders that would try to ram their way in. They would pass each other, turn and walk, pass each other, turn and walk, pass each other, turn and walk, pass each other, turn and walk, pass each other, turn and walk, pass each other, turn and walk, pass each other, turn and walk, pass each other, turn and walk, pass each other, turn and walk, pass each other, turn and walk, pass each other, turn and walk, pass each other, turn and walk, pass each other, turn and walk, and continue to rinse and repeat steps one and two until ordered otherwise. Oh, and confirm with command of any authorized personnel that is scheduled to pass the checkpoint, and keep out anyone who is unauthorized for entry. A piss poor job, but one of necessity. Boring, but one can't complain with the chain of command. To complain would enact reprimand on their ranks.

Earlier today, the only thing that happened was a car driving down the road that lead to their checkpoint then making a U-turn to go back over the bridge it used to get there. The two guards thought that it must have been a tourist that got lost or something. It typically happens once or twice a month. One of the checkpoint guards decided to pipe up. "Hooooh. Night shift is a bitch."

"Keep that up and you'll be sweeping and waxing the weapons depot floors for the whole day." Was the other guard's response.

"At least I'm looking forward for breakfast. Hopefully the next shift comes soon."

"Maybe the mess hall has bacon and eggs?"

"Heh, if we're lucky. Some sausage and toast would be nice, but I'm probably gonna get the chef's world famous bagels."

"Heheheh~! ... Hang on, something's up." One of the guards pointed at something down the road as he said that. There was a car that had stopped in the distance, on the end of the bridge.

The other guard squinted his eyes. "... Isn't that the same car today?"

"... I think you're right. Should we call command and report this?"

"Better be safe than- OH SHI-" The guard didn't have the patience to finish his sentence as he heard the curious vehicle rev and dashed forward at them. The guards let out a scant amount of shots before they were run down by the vehicle.

One of the checkpoint guards was unfortunate enough to get himself pushed into one of the jeeps and get squished between it and the ramming car. The other guard had his legs broken, but survived as he skidded a ways away. His rifle was knocked out of his hand and he was suffering so much pain that he could not scream. That or the wind was knocked out of him. Or both. The vehicle that injured him and seemed to have killed his fellow officer came to a stop next to him. What the officer saw perplexed and surprised him.

A man in armor with glowing yellow eyes stepped out and walked to the squished guard and chuckled. The armored man then turned and saw the broken yet surviving checkpoint guard and slowly approached. "Hello there."

"*cough cough* Ack. Fuck... ing... shit."

"Nothing personal." The armored man said, bringing out a shotgun and gently placing the barrel end onto the guard's chest, pointing to where his heart is located. "But I need your friends to give me a fight. Now... give me a good looking corpse."

"Ghhhn..." The SNG guard was hesitant in trying to reach for his pistol since he was at gunpoint. Any sudden moves would have prompted this armored man to fire. The guard was in no condition to fight, and felt as though that he was going to die pretty soon anyway. Either by internal bleeding or shotgun blast into the chest. "Who... the fuck are... you?"

"Heard of Stilwater?" Was the armored man's reply.

"... N-no..." The guard opened his eyes as wide as he could. He could not believe it! The Overlord of Stilwater, the Saint Killer, was here in Steelport. Killing this guy would make him famous. But at his current condition and position, there wasn't anything he could do.

"Aw. Well... I'm sure that as a spirit, you can go for a tour there in the afterlife." The Overlord said, sending a hot round of deadly buckshot into the guard's chest cavity, instantly killing him and setting his corpse on fire.

* * *

The Overlord chuckled loudly as he left the fiery dead body to ashen on the spot. With his new weapon tested, Carlon can now change his opinion of the shotgun he has now. Namely that it almost made the top of his list of favorite weapons. Almost. Axes are still reserved for the top spot. Can't get more close and personal enough than a good axe at your side, digging and cleaving into your enemies side. Axes are just the best.

With the welcoming committee disposed of, Carlon reached into his right gauntlet and pulled out his cell phone to check the map of the area. A small island that is inhabited by the Steelport Guard makes for the perfect testing grounds for the new equipment he'll be using. "Gnarl. You there?"

 _"I never left, my lord. That boomstick of yours is truly impressive, now that I got to see it in action."_ Gnarl said from seemingly within Carlon's helm.

Carlon nodded and proceeded down the street and rounded the corner, hearing boots stomping away from beyond a wall to his right. "Now lets see if my other toys can be as fun."

The Overlord took out his TEK Z-10 SMGs and dual wielded them. After donning his weapons, he took a cursory glance past a chain link gate and was immediately rewarded with gunfire at his direction. From the quick glance, Carlon could tell that there was soldiers in armor within the compound. How many, he didn't know. But to hypothesize a guess, Carlon would probably say that there might be more than twenty or so soldiers that he had to contend with. He quickly sidestepped and brought out his SMGs and fired at the closest enemies. They were riddled with bullet fire and its fiery payload, some becoming ignited by the deadly barrage. Carlon's armor plinked as bullets was fired at him. Some bullets grazed or embedded into his flesh, but his enchanted armor pushed the bullets out of his wounds and slowly healed him. Even though Carlon took cover on another section of wall, now on the left side of the gate, Carlon was able to take a longer gander in viewing the inside of the compound, taking in additional tactical information. He couldn't help but notice that there was even more soldiers than what his previous count first entailed. But he also saw several canisters and barrels of explosive materials. A wide grin was spread onto Carlon's face.

"Move in on the enemy!"

A frustrated frowned spread onto Carlon's face. There is no way that he would allow these jarheads to get the drop on an overlord like him. Actually, Carlon wasn't sure if these people were part of the United States Marine Corps, but he wasn't going to waste time thinking about semantics when he has a fight to win. Carlon searched his person for fragmentation grenades, picked off the pins and waited 5 seconds before throwing them over the wall he was taking cover in. After he vaulted the fragmentation explosives, they immediately detonated when they hit the ground. Carlon opened the chain link gate with a forceful swing and went into the compound, whipping out his SMGs and quickly blasting down the Steelport Guard, as well as firing at any explosive containers that the SNG soldiers happen to be next to. After using the grenades, Carlon's foes had drastically dwindled.

 _"Oooh, what have we here?"_ Gnarl whimsically mused out loud.

"Mm?" Carlon looked around a little to try and figure out what got the minion master excited. He turned to an oblong looking metal shape at the entrance of a warehouse. "That thing, you mean?"

 _"Yes, my lord. Looks to be of an overly large explosive! Might be useful to take with us, don't you think?"_

"I'm sure that we can just use the nether seeds just as effectively." Carlon said, shooting at the last of the SNG guards in the courtyard.

 _"But you're just not going to leave it here and let them use it against us?"_

"... Hmm... You have a point. I don't want these guards following me back home, so I'll just make a netherworld gate with a seed. The gate can destabilize itself when I need it to, anyway. Say, this gate wont connect with the tunnels that the minion diggers have made, will it?"

 _"Of course not, sire. In fact, I will give the minion diggers specific instructions so as to not connect the tunnels to the netherworld gate you'll be making. By the way, you have company."_

Carlon's armor plinked with more ricochet as more SNG officers revealed themselves, hunkering in the storehouse. Carlon scoffed and retreated with a swift brisk. "Might as well open the door and get some backup here."

The Overlord retreated northward and kicked open a different chain link gate that was in his way. He quickly found what he needed. Open earth. Carlon picked out a sack from his person and reached into it. A marble sized object rested in the palm of his hand, shifting in colors of fire and lava, with the occasional blue electrical sparks that danced on the metal of his gauntlet. He summoned his evil presence spell while holding the glowing pebble and tossed it to the grass covered ground on the other side of the road. The pebble erupted into spouts of lava ten seconds later, where by unseen forces of magical magnetism shaped and cooled a spiked construct of foreboding design, sizzling and cooling to the open air as it did. When the gate was fully formed, blue mist flowed up from the 'mouth' of the gate, rising into the sky and dissipating into the air of a cool night that approached morning. After that, four smaller gates formed at the foot of the netherworld gate, marking the completion of its formation.

"Twenty browns, twenty red salamander riders, five greens and five blues! To me!" Carlon shouted at the sinister structure, which prompted it to spit out the appropriate number of minions he requested, as well as twenty shelled reptiles that was forced out from the main gate. The red skinned minions got onto these apparent 'salamanders' and rode to their master, with other minions having to walk instead. Carlon turned and walked back to the compound and neared the entrance of the warehouse, careful not to bring himself into his enemies gun sights. "Reds, roll around in there and attack. And be sure to disperse yourselves evenly when your mount gets wounded enough."

The Overlord's red minions smiled evilly and cackled as they rode into the warehouse. "Chaaaaaaaaarge! Burn everything!"

The screams of panic and general outbursts of "What the fuck are those things?!" were heard by Carlon, and he nodded in approval. Even when the Steelport Guards were dividing their attention to the rolling terrors coming their way, Carlon had the upmost confidence that the red mounts were doing their job. He didn't even need to peek out from cover to confirm it.

He turned to his remaining minions behind himself. "Alright, you petulant torsos of vile enmity. Listen up! While the canon fodder is dealing with the Steelport Guard inside, I want the browns moving that thing to the gate." Carlon said, pointing to the bomb. "Blues, you are to defend here." He said, pointing at the corner of the entrance to the warehouse. "And greens, go invisible at that entrance over there." He then pointed to the gate where he had first entered at the west of the courtyard. "Guard it, and stab whoever so much as steps foot into the compound. **MOVE!** "

All of his remaining minions nodded in unison and scrambled to fulfill their master's orders. The brown minions circled the bomb and gingerly gripped the platform the bomb was on and lifted the whole thing. They then scooted and moved to where the newly deployed gate had been constructed, with Carlon following after them.

The blue minions that were positioned at the warehouse entrance would sometimes go into the warehouse to try and carry back a fallen red minion, amidst several explosions that was going off within. It's what happens when a red minion's mount sustains too much damage. Basically, their mount goes boom. And booms of that magnitude can turn both minions and humans into instant giblets.

The greens guarding the west gate had the easiest job: Don't let anyone who wasn't minion or overlord in. On the other hand, they did spot a tank that was rolling down a corner south of their position. Luckily, it didn't see them, or the unlucky SNG Guard that got jumped the moment he passed the gate.

Once the browns have lowered the bomb into the gate, Carlon turned and called out to his minions once again. "Alright, everyone! Come back, or you're getting left behind!"

The browns were the first to reenter their minion gate, followed by the blues, the remaining reds, and then finally the greens. A cannon sounded off, and part of the wall of the Sierra Point base crumbled and exploded. Carlon leaned from cover a little and found out what had made that explosion. A tank. It had to be a fucking tank.

"... Welp, I know this song. Time to leave the dance party." Carlon said to no one in particular and escaped into the netherworld gate. No one in their right mind would try and take on a tank. Even Carlon had his limits. Especially when his armor and weapon was not exactly the best equipment to wield against such a force. He thought it best to make a tactical retreat.

* * *

The entire base in Sierra Point was abuzz with activity. Several Steelport Guards have made several offensive fortifications facing toward and around the structure, meant to keep whatever came out if it from taking them by surprise, mainly in the form of turret towers. Tanks also surrounded the structure, their cannons pointed at the offending edifice that erupted from the ground. Though the blue mist that once came from its maw no longer flowed, as well as the smaller gates around it no longer being open, it still left an ominous feeling among the guards.

One among them, a staff sergeant named Donny McCane, rubbed his temples heavily as he tried to explain to his higher ups the situation, only to get angry complaints and more orders than he would have wanted. "No sir, we didn't follow him. The intruder had stolen the bomb and went into the structure that had appeared during the intrusion. ... No sir, the structure appears to be closed. ... No sir, we have not tried to open it, but I assume any attempts might result in another attack to our base. ... Sir? ... Yes sir, I'll await for the liaison's arrival." Donny hanged up his cellphone and sighed heavily. He turned to his men and shouted. "Step alive! We'll be getting a guest soon. A liaison will be arriving to asses the situation and provide tactical assistance. Inform the checkpoint asap!" Donny barked. He then turned and headed for the scene of the carnage after informing his men.

Bodies of various creeds, religions and races that gathered under the Steelport Guard uniform were cut down in their prime, indiscriminately. Many bodies were crispy and burned from the assault, and many more have been riddled with bullets from an SMG. Not only that, several craters dot the courtyard that tells the tale of explosive containers exploding, no doubt from the resulting skirmish that had occurred earlier. But the damage here in the courtyard wasn't the worst by far.

Donny turned and headed into the weapons depot. What he saw nearly made him upchuck. As far as he could see, several craters and warping of metal decorated the inside of the warehouse. Bodies were burned beyond recognition, which meant that they would no doubt have to be identified by their dental record. What was worse was the smell. Overcooked meat and rotting flesh tainted the air, making it difficult for a cleanup team to round up the bodies and look at the evidence of the mass murder. Not only that, fragments of what appeared to look like bone and red tortoise shell sprinkled the ground, walls and shelves within. Small scraps of torched leather and warped metal was also present here, but identifying what the scraps were confused whoever might have investigated into the matter.

Donny shook his head and went outside of the warehouse to breathe in relatively fresher air. This was clearly not a good day for the SNG.

His radio clicked and alerted him of a report from one of his officers. -This is west checkpoint. A vehicle has arrived and stated that they have the liaison that is arriving. Orders? Over.-

The staff sergeant reached to his radio and called back to the guards at the west checkpoint. "Acknowledged. Let them through and direct them to drive north. I'll be intercepting them. Over."

-Understood. Over and out.-

Donny settled his radio back onto his person and sighed, marching forth to intercept the liaison that he was supposed to meet with. ... Come to think of it, wasn't this a little too convenient? It was only a half an hour ago that the attack happened, and the higher ups had a number they could instantly call to contact a liaison about this kind of devastating event? Donny shook his head and continued down south. There was a vehicle that he did not recognize approaching him from the distance. Some kind of infantry mobile vehicle, to be sure. Other than that, Donny McCane didn't know what the model is. But he assumed that inside of the vehicle, the liaison is riding within.

He raised his hand and signed 'stop', prompting the vehicle to come to a halt. After it had parked, the passenger door opened, which revealed an African-American woman in plain looking flak armor. At least Donny assumed that it was flak armor. She stepped down from the vehicle to turn and stared straight at Donny with a serious expression. "Are you in charge here?"

Donny nodded. "I am Staff Sergeant Donald Duff McCane, of the Steelport Guard, stationed here at Sierra Point. You must be the liaison that was sent to investigate the attack. Am I right?"

"That would go without saying. I am Lieutenant Commander Kia, of the Special Tactical Anti-Gang Unit. Where did the attack happen?"

"That's some name for a unit." Donny said, unsure if it really was a real unit or not. Was this another division?

"Where. Did. The attack. Happen?" Kia said slowly. Donny now realized that she was not the one for idle chat.

"... This way." Donny said, turning around and going back north. After walking into the courtyard of the Sierra Point SNG base, Donny waved his hand and gestured to the scene of destruction. "This is where the attack happened. I'd recommend not going inside the warehouse, but..." He saw Kia going into it anyway. "... Yeah, you're gonna go in there anyway."

Kia took a glance and skimmed over the destruction within the depot. She didn't seem to mind the smell of rotting flesh. She knelt down to inspect a shell fragment. "Hmm... When did the attack happen?"

"About half an hour ago." Donny replied.

"And this smell?" Kia asked.

"I'm assuming that it's from the bodies."

"In this climate and humidity, it would take two to three hours for the smell of decomposition to become noticeable. And considering the nature of the enemy that I have came here to confirm the existence of... I still need the last bit of evidence before I report to command. Your higher ups said that there was a structure?" Kia said, standing back up.

"It's north of here. This way." Donny turned and walked to where the aggressor was last seen.

Donny and Kia eventually approached the black and spiked structure. It had several stalagmite spires that curved as fingers that closed around the entrance of the structure. The obsidian colored stone had slight wisps of steam spouting off of it at odd intervals, while the grass around the structure burned heavily from its recent formation. The bomb that the SNG once had was squirreled into it, and now this black thing lies here as a testament to the Steelport Guard's failure to protect their base.

Kia approached the structure and tapped one of the steps with her foot. "Hmm... Doesn't look like it's open for business."

"Yeeeaaahhh, I wouldn't recommend going into it. ... Though, the thing looks kinda closed off for now. Considering how hard we got our asses handed to us, going into an enemy territory now would be nothing short of suicide. We just don't know what's on the other side." Donny said, nearing his hand to his holster in case the structure reacted to Kia that was stepping on its steps.

"Then let me make this easy for you to understand." Kia said, stepping away and taking out a device from her person, only to throw it at the structure, and then taking out yet more devices to throw at the structure. Donny looked at one of these devices and recognized what they are. Satchel charges. Kia then turned to Donny with a detonator in her hand. "Don't leave any loose ends."

Donny backed away, realizing what she meant. "EVERYONE TAKE COVER!" Five seconds later, several explosions had rocked the ears of everyone nearby as the structure was assaulted by the explosions. Everyone was pelted by black broken rock. When the dust had settled, the structure was badly damaged, many of the finger like protrusions would crumble and collect in the closed entrance or were launched from the resulting explosion. Kia however, never budged from her position. Donald gingerly peeked up and over the cover that he took and stared at Kia. Donny approached her and started shouting. "Are you fucking crazy?!"

"Just doing something that would have bit you in the ass had you neglected to do it the first place." Kia turned to Donny and handed him a sheet of paper. "Here's a radio frequency to contact us if something like this happens again."

Donny looked at the sheet of paper and crumpled it with an angry fist. "Are you not going to tell me what the hell attacked us? As a liaison, you're supposed to tell me what kind of enemy had attacked us."

"... Fine. You deserve to know at least some things. Ever heard of Stilwater?" Kia said, sighing. It was obvious to say that she would rather be somewhere else than stay here any longer.

Donny's face scrunched into a confused expression. "... The quarantined city that was taken over by a guy called Overlord?"

"The same. And from what I noticed here, the fires, the explosions, the structure that I got rid of for you, the intruder you faced today might as well be the same person."

As Donny soon realized it, he looked down and sighed. So the Saint Killer of Stilwater is here? That would explain the burned bodies and explosions. The man had a reputation for burning nearly everything that ever presented itself as a problem to him.

"Other than that, we don't know much else about The Overlord. If you fail in detaining him, or the other gangs in this city, then we will have no choice but to convince the US senate to activate our unit and take over from here. Now if you'll excuse me." Kia said. She then turned around and headed for the vehicle she rode on.

Donny was dumbfounded. Judging over what Kia said, it would appear that she had much more powerful friends in higher places than he ever hoped to have. The pit of his stomach suddenly felt heavy. Donny realized that this was a gut feeling. He can tell from such an instinct that worse things that he couldn't fathom were going to happen.


	8. Steelport, Here Is The Squad

Chapter 8: Steelport, Here Is The Squad

* * *

Carlon stared and puzzled at the object he recently stole from the SNG, or Steelport Guard as they were also known as. The bomb was carefully placed and stored on one of the walls of the huge cavern that the netherworld tower is located in. Even if the bomb were to 'accidentally' go off, the resulting explosion would be far and away from Carlon's home. But even then, thoughts still flooded his head. What kind of city is Steelport to have a military police division stationed as the highest level of law enforcement, one of which that surpasses even the SWAT? If anything, it must have something to do with The Syndicate using Steelport as their base of operations. So far, he was moderately impressed by the level of weaponry and tech that the SNG tried to use against him. But the tanks... That might be a problem in the future. In fact, he was thinking intently about those heavily armored vehicles as he stared at the bomb he stole. How, in all of evil, is Carlon supposed to go up against a tank? Sure, Carlon has the use of the sanctuary shield spell to stop the cannon fire for a split second, but without a forward gate or a waypoint gate, Carlon would have difficulty regaining the mana, and waiting for all of it to regenerate while being chased by cannon fire would be considered even more difficult.

After a while, Carlon shook his head and walked onto a floating platform that levitated him back to the netherworld tower. If anything, Carlon would settle with avoiding attention from the law enforcement, both reasonably understood lower ranks and unusually unorthodox militaristic approaches. Which left him the only conclusion that would benefit his plans and presence in Steelport. He needed a disguise. He needed a car. And more importantly, he needed a forward base of operations.

As the floating obsidian platform transferred its current rider to the netherworld tower's throne room, he stepped off and onto the balcony, proceeding into the throne room's foyer. "Gnarl, I do believe we are in need of a subtle approach to ascertaining a foothold in this city."

Gnarl, not being too far away from his master as usual, piped up. "Subtlety is a necessity when one needs to be sneaky. But if that were the case..." Gnarl came into Carlon's view. "What do you have in mind?"

Carlon plonked his armored rear onto his throne and explained to his advisor. "For one, we need a stable netherworld gate in a hidden location. We can use that gate to further our goal. Since I nearly had the misfortune to fight a tank, discretion will have to be a premium. Furthermore, I do believe I am in need of a vehicle and a disguise."

"Hmm... Then I do believe that the elite minion squad I formed will be useful for this request of yours." Gnarl said in glee, reaching above himself and grabbing at the hanging crystal lantern that dangled above his head, which was attached to his back. He then reached into his tattered red and gray robes for something.

Carlon tilted his head as he watched Gnarl. "... What are you doing?"

Gnarl fetched what appeared to be a double-sided hand mirror. "Just taking out a trinket, sire. ... Oh. Now that I think about it, this is the first time that you have seen this in use in person! Allow me to demonstrate." Gnarl held the mirror in front of himself, using it to shade himself from the hanging crystal rock that hanged on the stick. He then chanted something to it. "Ancient mirr'r in mine own handeth, I beseech thee. Alloweth me seeth, heareth, and speaketh with the beareth'r of this enchant'd item, did connect by this enchantment. connecteth to... Mud and his elite minion squad."

Gnarl then spun the mirror as one would a bamboo copter or Chinese top and it levitated in place. Its spin slowed and slowed till it swayed to a full stop, the mirrors surface now showing the image of a brown minion perusing into a garbage can. A green minion could be seen from a distance away, knocking down a payphone and some parking meters and stealing the coins. They seemed to be located in a dark alley. Carlon nodded and understood. "So you use that mirror to contact me through my helmet?"

The brown minion turned his head around as he heard a familiar voice. _"Mastah? You is here?"_

"In a moment, Mud." Gnarl said, then turned to Carlon. "Yes, sire, I use this hand mirror to connect to you in the same manner. Though I use the crystal heart instead, since using it can grant me several more viewpoints than a simple hand mirror could allow."

"Mm! So what do you have in mind here?" Carlon asked.

"I'll be getting to that, Sire. Ahem. Mud, I am now talking directly to you. There has been a development, and I do believe that your squad's... skills... are now in need. Oh, and be at your best behavior. Our master will be shadowing your next operation from my position. Now, listen carefully, as I'll need you to do something."

 _"Yes Gnarl!"_ was Mud's reply, saluting to no one in particular.

* * *

Mud was a very happy minion. Of course, he is usually a very happy minion when he got to do what he wanted. Bashing people, breaking objects, stealing money, and serving his master are generally the things that made Mud a happy minion. But now, he has the opportunity to do, like, more of the things that he wanted to do. Suffice to say, Mud felt very proud of the moment. He wore SWAT heavy armor and a SWAT helmet that was modified to have his ears poke out of it comfortably, with a flag that was installed in the top of the helm that had the banner of the Saint Killer. The helmet's banner was that of a white fleur-de-lis set in a purple background, with a red X that crossed out the fleur-de-lis. He also carried a police baton with several screws screwed into one side in one end, and a steak knife that was taped onto the other side on the same end, essentially creating a crude bladed and spiked tonfa at one end of the weapon. He saluted to no one in particular, though still proud to serve the forces of evil, and shouted out. "Yes Gnarl!"

 _"Do you see that newspaper dispensary? Steal some newspapers and peruse into the available foreclosure listings."_

"Er... Okay." Mud moved for the news rack and broke into it. After pilfering the coins that the rack had contained, Mud then spread around the sheets of printed paper indignantly and messily.

...

...

... Mud realized that he couldn't read. At least he knows someone nearby who did. "Coot! Where is you?"

A blue minion perked his head up from looting, which was wearing what looked like a torn black vest and a graduate's cap. The blue minion scrambled over the body he was looting and approached Mud. "Yes? Do you need me for something?"

"Yeah. Mud is not good with wordy reading. So, Mud called for you. You is good with speaking words and reading words, yes?"

Coot nodded. "Yes I am." He said, meekly.

Mud pointed to the rummaged pile of newspapers and smiled. "Gnarl wants us to find a thing called 'four-close-sure listings'. Find them!" He said, not hiding his disdain to a lesser ranked minion.

Coot looked down at the ruined pile of newspapers, then looked up at his minion comrade with a deadpan stare. Casually, Coot reached to the newspaper rack and pulled from it a fresh newspaper roll, opening it and perusing the articles for what Mud wanted him to look for.

Mud sneered as Coot was distracted with the paper. Mud hated that Coot was the literary type. Or really, the only minion in their squad that was sophisticated enough to be called the brains of the group. But as smart as Coot was, Mud believed that he was also just as stupid. Even though it wouldn't make sense to gauge someones intelligence to their idiocy, Coot knew better to correct Mud on the grammar of his leader's words. Coot had several head drubbings from the many times he corrected Mud as punishment. Coot now knew better. Oh, and counting was also punishable. Coot would have reached the number 100 long ago had Mud not decided to terrorize the blue minion and punish him for it. Although, due to recent events, counting seems like a skill that is very much needed within this new world of theirs, so Mud would 'allow' Coot to count when counting was needed. Or read when reading was needed. Or talk good when talking good was needed.

As Coot perused further into the newspaper, his ears perked up. "Ohhh... I think I found something that might be good."

 _"What is it, Coot? Mud, get a little closer to Coot and look over his shoulder."_ Gnarl asked.

Mud sighed and did so, but making sure to 'accidentally' drub his elbow into the blue minion's back. The blue minion rewarded Mud by holding the newspaper up to Mud's face and pointing at a particular box that Mud couldn't possibly read. "This here. It says there is an apartment that is available." Coot said.

 _"Hmm... An apartment in the Brickston neighborhood, in the Stanfield district? This is almost too good to be true! Which neighborhood are you in at the moment?"_

Mud would have answered had it not took him ten to twenty seconds remembering what area he was in. Coot undermined him by beating him to the punch. "It's in Ashwood. It's not too far from here."

 _"Then I will entrust you to appropriate the apartment. Mud, I entrust you to find a place of open earth within the building so we can direct the minion diggers to create a new netherworld gate there. I will tell them the longitude and latitude coordinates of the location there and... Well... We'll improvise from there! Now, go forth, minions! And make your master proud!"_

Mud and Coot both saluted. After that, Mud elbowed Coot's back again for fun, and then went about gathering the rest of the elite minions in his squad. He knew of two minions that was close by. "Snake? Rake? Come to Mud, we has new mission!"

Snake came around a corner, wearing a black jacket with a black eye patch, which was jingling with so many coins that was 'found'. "Hissss, what is it this time, Mud?" Snake said, a little agitated about something. No doubt from being summoned by Mud.

Mud came up to Snake and looked around for Snake's tribe brother. "Where Rake? We need Rake for mission too."

"I here." Rake said, coming into existence right next to Mud and Snake. He was wearing a hoodie, which was colored in purple with a white faded fleur-de-lis that was crossed with what looked to be blood on the front. This minion wore a white bandana on his head.

Snake immediately pounced him and slapped him around. "You hiding from me again? I told you to hold all the pretty coins, but you were here whole time? Rake, you slinky stupid slacker!"

"Snake, we has mission." Mud said, bonking Snake's head with the blunt non-fatal end of his modified baton. Snake rubbed his sore head and removed his hold on Rake, which prompted Mud to lower his modified baton. "Besides, Bill is in charge of carrying all loot we pick up. If you see Bill or Bill's truck, Give to Bill or drop in truck. Now come with Mud. We need to gather rest of squad." Mud turned around, expecting Snake and Rake to follow behind him. Oh, and Coot, but he didn't care about him.

Traveling down the alley, Mud and company turned and found a Criminal sports utility truck that was decorated in what looked like cloth rags and rope with several small miscellaneous items that was either tied on or welded onto the vehicle. The truck bed was littered with various items, mainly various coins and dollars of differing values. There was also a stolen toilet seat, a blow up doll, a car door, an uplifted parking meter, and a trash bag. Three other minions were spotted by Mud as he approached.

Bill, with his truckers cap and wife beater T-Shirt that was worn over a bullet proof vest was casually chewing a cigar. It wasn't actually lit, but he didn't really care. So long as he gets to be the driver of the vehicle he calls 'Trucky', he wouldn't have a conniption. Last time he had one was when a red minion accidentally dropped a cigarette lighter onto a seat and burned a hole in the leather, and proceeded to beat everyone with a crowbar. That was when Bill announced that any time he starts driving, all red minions must be firmly seated in the truck bed. The green minions would also sit in the truck bed, but the reason for that was because of the horrid stink the greens made. Nobody wants to be in a sealed cabin with a green minion. NOBODY.

Speaking of reds, Flames and Bake were cajoling with one another to burn whatever kind of trash they could find as a means to pass the time. Flames had a pair of leather pants with his arms through the pant legs. The pant legs was shortened by fire to allow his hands to reach. That or it was accidentally burned shorter as Flames would spit fire into his hands, only to burn his sleeves/pant legs shorter as a result. The hat he had worn was a fireman's cap. If the minions could summon the mental capacity to understand on how funny it was that a red minion was wearing a fireman's cap, they would regard the spectacle as ironic and hilarious. Sadly, the only minion here that knew the definition of irony was Coot. "Hmm..." Flames would say to Bake. "... Ooh, throw a burn ball at that!" He said, pointing at a wad of paper positioned on top of a trash can amidst all sorts of burnable trash.

Bake, ironic to his name, had appropriated a crocheted cap that was Rastafarian in design. Or 'rastacap', as some or most people prefer to call such a hat. Bake also wore two pairs of panties onto his shoulders, where his neck would occupy two of the panty holes, while both of his arms would occupy a single hole of each panty. He also wore a flasher's coat. The coat had to be heavily modified since it kept dragging and catching onto the ground, tripping Bake. Not any more, since anything that so much as touched the ground while Bake was standing was carefully burned away by him. To Bake, it was a nice coat no matter how burned it got. Speaking of burns, Bake threw a fireball at the piece of crumpled paper and instantly lit it up. "Alright. My turn. You throw burn ball at..." Bake said, contemplating Flame's next target.

Mud approached the truck and made a headcount of the remaining minions, and realized that there was one missing. Mud started looking around for the final member of the minion crew. Snake and Rake already headed for Bill's truck and dumped their findings into the truck bed, coins clattering with the spoils of theft and murder, which then shouted to the reds that there was a new mission for the squad. Mud looked left and right, but found no one that matched the soon-to-be-described missing member. "Bill. You know where is Heals?"

Bill looked down and at Mud, taking out his cigar. "Hmm... I think I saws Heals somewhere... Maybe he's on pee-pee break?"

"Gnaaah, what Gnarl thinking?" Mud said, walking past Bill's Truck and not caring if Gnarl could still hear him talk aloud. "Putting Mud as leader of elite minion squad and thinking Mud be one to rally troops. Grah. Heals! Come here! Mud needs Heals! We has new mission!"

"I come, no worry about me." A blue minion said as he approached from a now soggy area. This final minion wore several chains around his neck, most made of fake metal and jewelry, and some being literal chains. Upon his head, he wore a customized pimp hat. It was light blue, that matched his skin color, with red and black tiger stripes and a white feather. Mud was not sure how Heals got a hat customized for himself. It could be that he asked very nicely enough to Gnarl or The Overlord and they got him the hat as a result. That or threatened someone in a clothing store to get him the customized hat. One thing Mud hated about Heals was how whimsical he could get sometimes. Between Coot's apparent smartness and Heals' daft aloofness, Mud had a lot to deal with between the blue minions, what with Coot one-upping him, and Heals... well... being Heals.

For good measure, Mud bonked him on the head and pointed to Bill's truck. "Pee-pee break is over. We is going on our first mission. We go and make netherworld gate in apartment place!"

Heals shook his head from the bonk, but then nodded and followed after Mud. "I hopes there is neighbors in apartment place having lots of shiny things and pretty ladies."

Mud lead Heals to Bill's vehicle and gotten into the passenger seat of the truck, as Heals and Coot took the backseats. The reds, Flames and Bake, and greens, Snake and Rake, would fight among themselves where they would sit in the truck bed, amidst all the loot they stolen in their current run. By an act of attrition, they have finally decided to throw the toilet seat and car door out to make room. Once they appropriate a netherworld gate at the new forward base, they would dump their loot and then continue looting things. Once Bill saw that everyone got a seat to themselves, he started the ignition of Trucky and used a stilt to reach the pedals.

Despite the incredibly horrible idea to let a minion drive any vehicle of any model, Bill's proficiency in driving was barely equal to that of a student who barely passed the drivers exam. At least Bill learned not to be a lead footed driver, and learned to slow down during turns. The minions who were unfortunate enough to ride in the truck bed hated it when Bill started skidding and handbrake strafing the corners. Or doing stunts. Or crashing. Or get chased by the law enforcement during their time driving in Steelport. But this ride would warrant no dangerous activities for the moment. No drive-by flamings. No slicing tires either parked or moving. And definitely, no getting the authorities attention. Bill would have loved to run someone over, but again, he'd rather not get the attention of the authorities for the moment.

After running several stoplights and driving between several scores of cars, Bill finally decided to pipe up during their 'leisurely cruise', stopping at a red light for what might have been the first time in his life. "So uh... Where are we going?"

Mud scrunched up his face. "Uh..."

Coot decided it was time to break the circle of stupidity. "We take a left here. Go straight until I say left or right."

Mud scrunched up his face more. "How you know where we is are?" He said, feeling as though Coot deserves another bonk onto his head.

Coot procured a square from his person and showed it to Mud. "See?" Coot said. "This GPS says to take a left and go forward."

Mud slapped the GPS out of his face and snarled. "Grah, why didn't you tell Mud about this?"

Coot sheepishly leaned back into his seat, doing well to avoid Mud's drubbing distance. "I don't like it when you bonk me on the head, so I kept silent."

Mud would have bonked Coot on the head for that comment alone, but decided against it. "Myaaaah, Mud don't care. Tells us when we need to turn and get this drive over with."

"Hey!" Bill exclaimed. "Don't tell me you no like Trucky!"

"No no, Bill. Mud likes Trucky." Mud explained. "But Mud rather get to bashing heads soon. ... Oh, and capturing apartments. That too."

"... Right." Bill said.

"No, left." Coot said. All the browns in the truck turned to stare at Coot, agitated as he said something smart/dumb without them understanding what he meant. "... Uh... Left turn."

Bill stared at Coot with a deadpan stare, then turned back to his reckless driving, making a left as Coot instructed. Mud however, got fed up and decided to give Coot a gentle bonk on the head. It was almost as though Mud was saying 'We know, so stop reminding us!'

* * *

As Bill stopped Trucky on a vacant spot in front of the apartments, Coot gestured to everyone that they were at their destination. Mud opened the front passenger door and jumped out, brandishing his modified baton and eyeing the offending building.

Once all the minions got out of Trucky, Mud turned to his fellow minions and spoke as authoritatively as he possibly could. "Alright, you slime covered maggots! We be going into there and taking over apartment place! We split in four teams. Flames and snake, make sure no one go in or out at front door. Rake and Bake, stay with Mud until we come to back door and do what Mud said for Flames and Snake to do, but for back door. Bill and Heals go with Mud to go in and take everyone alive. Everyone is to bash them till fall down, but no killy!"

Snake's face had an unhappy expression to it. "No killy?"

Mud furrowed his brow at the green minion. "No killy."

"Aw."

"But what about me?" Coot said, curious as to his role in the plan that Mud was telling them about.

"You is to go to apartment owner's office and make sure that you learn all there is to do in apartment owning."

"... Really?" Coot said, a little confused by Mud's tactical logic.

"Yeah. You is smart with reading words and numbers, just as much as speaking words and numbers. If peoples calls on owner's phone, you answer and convince that no problem is here."

Coot seemed to understand the logic after being explained the tactic. After all, this WAS supposed to be their first covert mission, and preventing anyone inside from calling the authorities would be good for the squad. "Oh. Okay, I get it!"

Mud turned around and huffed, remembering why he hated Coot. Sure, he was intelligent, but he was tactfully dumb too. Mud strongly believes and stands by the fact that he made up that Coot was still as smart as he was stupid. He raised his baton into the air and shouted his battle cry. "CHAAAAAARGE!"

Mud lead his squad into the rundown apartment complex, kicking open the front door and causing havoc in the entire complex. Many of the people, mostly crack heads, squatters, and winos, thought that it was yet another SWAT raid. That is until their doors were busted open and hell broke loose upon them. Many people were subdued and beaten until unconscious, while the few that tried to escape were either pounced by wrist blades cutting their hamstrings or had fire thrown at their faces.

Coot's job couldn't be any more simpler. Once they found the landlord's office, Coot waited till Mud and the squad had subdued the landlord, who was such a frail and skinny bodied looking goth that might have been bulimic, before getting appropriated to the office. The whole place was very messy, and the desk had a pile of papers that nearly reached halfway to the ceiling. No wonder it had went into foreclosure! They must have forgotten to pay their mortgage loans or something of the sort. Coot understood that in order for The Overlord to use this apartment complex as a forward base, Coot would have to understand and manage the bills and rent, with a little help from The Overlord's massive stockpile of stolen cash. However, for the sake of subtlety, the only way to get interest is to pay with interest. Namely, the current tenants will have to visit The Overlord to become enslaved. They would then apply for jobs so that they would pay for their share of the rent for an exorbitant amount, living on only the bare essentials. Food, water, and shelter. There was no need for electricity, internet, entertainment, or any form of diversion when they will work for the minions master, both body and soul. And if Coot needed to roll with his elite minion squad again, he would get the landlord enslaved and have him work in his stead. The perfect crime.

As Coot settled himself into the swiveling desk chair and got to work sorting through the mess of stacked papers, a phone started ringing and Coot froze. He turned and spotted the phone as it blared its alarm, signaling that someone was on the other side of the connection. Coot decided to wait for the voice mail to pick it up.

Caller: Heeeeeeyyyyy, it's meeeeeee, I decided to give you a call on your work phone~! Sadly, you didn't answer your cellphone, so I can only guess that you must have misplaced it. Again. Did you misplace your cellphone again? Or are you gonna make the same excuse that you were mugged again and the muggers thought your phone was worth more than your life? Yeah, like I would believe that! Anyway, I'll be coming over to tell you that I bought a new shirt that I just know that you are gonna looooooooooooooove~!

Coot shook his head. Yeah, picking up the phone to someone's female friend was a bad idea. But as Coot shook his head, that was when he noticed Heals was in the room with him, and next to him. "... Heals, what are you doing?"

Heals slowly reached for the phone, a coy grin on his face. "She sound like pretty lady."

"Heals, no, don't." Coot begged, waving at his tribe brother. Heals neared his grubby claws closer and closer to the phone, which eventually forced Coot to act instinctively and push Heals away. "Heals, no! We can't let anyone find out about us! Go be a naughty minion somewhere else and let me handle the delicate work!"

Caller: Hey, what? Who is this?

... Coot realized that he accidentally picked up the receiver of the phone. "... Uh... This is... Um..."

"You talking to Coot now." Heals said, with a whimsical smile.

Coot threw a lamp at Heals' head and tried to fix the new problem that just happened. "Ignore him! He's just, uh... My special needs brother!"

Caller: You're certainly not Fred. Who is this?

"Uh... My name is... Coot."

Caller: Why do you sound like that?

"Uh... It's just something I developed when I got older." Coot said, deciding that what the woman caller referring to was his conversational acumen and intelligent sounding accent. It was hard to tell the truth in a veiled way, but Coot didn't have it in him to lie to this girl. The best he will have to do is lie by omission.

Caller: Oh. Okay then. Anyway, is Fred there?

Coot tried to think of something. "Uh... Depends. Why do you need to call Fred?"

Caller: That is between me and him, and I don't know you that well. Put him on the phone please.

Coot looked up and saw Mud dragging off yet another apartment tenant from an open door, helped by Bill. _What would he do in this situation?_ Coot thought. "I'm sorry, miss. He has... been arrested and taken away."

Caller: Oh nooooooo~! Is he okay? I hope it's not one of his stupid neighbors trying to blame him for something in front of the cops again. But still, how long ago did they take him away?

Coot looked back at the door and tried to think of something without lying. "Pretty recently. Listen, I'm going to hang up now. The situation here is currently very awkward for everyone, and the apartment will be getting new management."

Caller: Ugh. I kept telling him to pay his loans and mortgage fees too! ... Oh well. Anyway, is it safe for me to just come over there and pick up his stuff?

"All of it has been confiscated."

Caller: ... What?

"Yeah. Like... all of it."

Caller: ... You don't sound very sure.

Mud had finally peeked into the room, which prompted Coot to motion to him that there was a problem. "Uhh... Please hold." Coot covered the receiver so that his voice wouldn't be heard by the lady caller. "Mud, help!"

Mud entered with an exasperated groan. "What you do?" He said, approaching Coot, ready to use his baton for any needed bonking.

Coot explained. "I was going through the bills and financial papers on the desk when the phone starts ringing. I didn't pick it up and let the voicemail take the call, but then Heals decided to try and pick up the receiver because I guess he wanted to talk to her. By instinct, I tried to stop him, but now there is a woman trying to find out about some guy named Fred and says she's coming over to pick up his stuff or something and... and... I don't know what to tell her!"

Coot's reward for explaining the problem was rewarded with one of Mud's bonks with his baton. Mud then bonked Heals for good measure, since Mud heard his name and was sure that the other blue was to blame. Mud then turned to Coot. "Alright. Mud will say some stuff to you, and you repeat what Mud says in your smarty way to woman. Got it?"

Coot nodded briskly. "I got it." Mud then started whispering into Coot's ear as softly as he could. Coot nodded and relayed what Mud said, but in a more grammatically correct and intelligent way. "Listen. You can't come over because there has been an attack at the apartment. A lot of people have been taken away for their own good, but there is a lot of fighting still happening inside. Right now though, a breaching team is raiding the apartment and I would not recommend coming here right now."

Caller: Oh my god.

"And to tell you what is best, I suggest staying away from the apartment." Coot relayed from Mud.

Caller: Why? Was there a meth lab in one of the tenants spaces?

Coot looked at Mud and Mud nodded, telling Coot that there really was a meth lab in the building. What coincidence! "Yes. Some chemicals leaked and it must have been the cause to start the fighting. Everyone will be detained for questioning and processing, but that's pretty much protocol, you know?"

Caller: Wow... This opened my eyes a bit. You know, Coot, you seem like a nice guy.

Coot scoffed. "Oh, I wouldn't call myself nice." Mud would have to agree with Coot, but didn't voice his opinion.

Caller: But even so, thank you for telling me that Fred is with the authorities. Will there be a chance for me to talk to him again?

Coot listened to Mud more and relayed to the caller.. "I'm sorry, but I think he's still being processed with the rest of the people in the apartment."

Caller: Okay... Well... I'll call this number at a later time then. Could you please set a note down somewhere that says that a person named January is going to call again? It's so that when it reaches the new landlord, I can hopefully get some answers to some of my questions about Fred and if he's okay. If he's going to be tied up with the authorities, then I guess it's out of my hands to try and contact him.

Coot nodded and got a paper and pencil ready. ... Why was Coot even doing this? He did some messy scribbles on a piece of paper that took 15 seconds before Coot answered. "... Alright, jotted that down. I'm to assume that you are this January person?"

January: Hehehehehe, you guessed right~! But I guess this is now the moment we stop talking and say our goodbyes, huh?

"Yeah... So uh... Bye." Coot said, finally breathing a sigh of relief after Heals' blunder.

January: Byyyyyyeeeeee~!

And with that mess sorted out, Coot relaxed into his desk chair and hanged up the phone, only to be kicked down by Mud. Mud looked down on Coot and scowled. "Yous be in very big trouble, Coot."

Coot shielded his head. "What did I do?"

"Mud said you to convince people no problem was here. And here, Mud found you talking to lady on phone. You had a job, Coot!" Mud said, bonking Coot's head with his baton again. Mud then flipped his baton around to the more lethal end and smashed the phone to pieces. After the telecommunication device was broken beyond repair, Mud then turned to Heals. "And you! Mud did not say you would leave Mud's side like that!"

Heals shrugged his shoulders. "I heard pretty lady voice and followed."

"We has mission to do still, Heals! Come with Mud and help squad with apartment capture."

Coot got up from the floor and decided to speak up. "Mud! One of the people that lives here is called Fred, and I need him for his knowledge of running this apartment. Can you talk to Gnarl to ask our master in, maybe, enslaving Fred so that he can tell me all I need to know about how to manage an apartment?"

Mud turned to glare at Coot, looking to be ready to bonk someone again if they spoke out of line or when asked to answer a question or perform a request. Instead, Mud languidly bobbed his head and contemplated the request from his underling in the squad. The bobbing turned into nodding, followed by a sigh of frustration. "Fine. Won't be easy for Mud. You owe Mud for this." Mud gestured to Coot and turned. "Come. You is done here. Mud no want you doing more muckings of Mud's plan."

Coot paused for a little before sighing and feeling grateful that he wasn't getting bonked on the head again by Mud, then followed him.

* * *

After 'arresting' the tenants and landlord of the apartment, much of the debris that was used to block the upstairs was cleared away. Many of the pesky neighbors that were found was knocked unconscious, burned, and crippled, only to be dumped in a pile together in the basement. Many that were still conscious, either burned in the face or unable to walk, were watched carefully by a goblin looking creature with a truckers cap and a crowbar. Mud came back with Heals and Coot in the basement, Joining Bill.

Upon entering the bottom level of the building, Mud looked around at the lowest level of the apartment, which was the basement. The floor was hard with solid cement, with a lot of items that was stored down here for safekeeping or were used for something, like furniture and shelves of stored files, a water heater, circuit breaker, and cable box. Mud scampered over the concrete flooring and inspected it, as though trying to decipher if there was some hidden treasure underneath the cemented barrier. After wasting minutes of looking at the floor, Mud decided to speak to a minion that he knew was smarter than him. Mud wasn't going to ask for Coot's advice, however. "Hmm... Gnarl, floor is covered in flat rocky stuff. Concrete, Mud thinks is called. Mud no see any way minion diggers can dig through."

 _"That is quite alright, Mud. Just start striking the floor to break and shatter the concrete. The diggers will make minion gates underneath you, which will help to push all that broken concrete out of the way for the main netherworld gate."_ Gnarl said, giving Mud the idea he needed.

Mud nodded. "Then we get even more minions to help break away rocky floor!" Mud then turned to Bill. "Bill, Mud needs you. Attack the floor and smash it up! Coot. You watch people as Mud and Bill break floor. You no let them use hand phones! If you see them using one, smash it!"

Bill nodded and left his position, only for Coot to occupy it seconds later. As Coot carefully surveyed and watched the people that he was now responsible for, Mud and Bill got to work striking the concrete floor, chipping away fragments of the man-made stone to try and reach underneath, mining till they reach dirt. It was tedious work, where successful strikes slowly chipped away at the concrete flooring of the base, but they slowly, ever so slowly, neared the soil underneath. At least Bill's weapon worked very well in jostling loose concrete and separated the cracks further. Crowbars are useful like that.

After finally reaching the earth underneath the floor, the color of soft soil being found with Bill and Mud's destruction of the concrete floor, Mud cackled in joy. "Here we go! Make the hole wider!" Mud demanded from Bill, and the both of them proceeded to strip away the concrete radially.

And then, finally, Mud and Bill's hard work was rewarded. Obsidian spikes punctured through the bare dirt, nearly threatening to stab both Mud and Bill. Nearly having their hides punctured, they jumped out of the way and let the minion portal settle in its new place. This is just one of five gates that was needed to breach to establish a dark domain. At least now, the elite minion squad had all the help they will ever need. Mud's face contorted into a sadistic smile. He can now get more minions under him to make way for more gates.

* * *

 **A/N: Kind of a long read here, but I felt as though the previous minions in the first story needed some development.  
**


	9. Steelport, Here Is The Overlord

Chapter 9: Steelport, Here Is The Overlord

* * *

Carlon watched Gnarl's curious mirror for a while, and grew impressed over the shenanigans of a particular group of his underlings.

Mud, being the tactically minded minion, seemed to have rubbed off a little strategy from his master more times than Carlon would admit, picking up some tricks as a result. Even though the squad leader was very abrasive to his teammates, he still got the job done at the end of the mission. Mud's main disadvantage was maintaining order and dividing his attention to all of the minions in his squad.

Bill, surprisingly enough, was the designated driver of the squad. How a minion could train himself to drive and operate a vehicle was beyond Carlon's understanding. But even then, there could be some improvement in the minions maneuvering. That and Carlon was certain that there couldn't be a DMV on this planet that would allow a minion, of all sentient things, to drive a truck.

Flames and Bake's personalities were volatile. Anytime they were together and have nothing to do, they would tempt one another to start burning things around themselves. Bake, being the younger red minion, is often the one to start something with Flames when the both of them have free time. Oftentimes involving setting up targets for each other to find out which one is more accurate with their fireballs. Or picking out targets among their fellow minions, which Flames occasionally did, which would then be punished and disciplined by Mud after.

The two green minions were a little different, compared to the two reds. Snake and Rake acted more like siblings with one another, whereas Snake was a little more... abusive to Rake. Such as forcing the lesser green minion to carry double of the loot that the both of them had stolen. Or relaying bad news to Mud and have him receive full punishment. Or told to start attacking only when Snake had made the first strike when sent against the same enemy.

Heals was an oddball. He had probably knocked himself in the head way too many times during his descent above the city of Steelport, which may have resulted in his apparent brain damage. For a blue minion, he dozes off more often than average, with a heavy salaciousness to women. Kind of makes his hat fit him in that sense.

But Coot was way different from his tribe brother. Coot spoke well and had an innate understanding of how a GPS device worked, though Carlon doubted that that wasn't the extent to his mental acuity. Though Coot was not a tactical thinker like Mud was, he was still smarter than the average minion. Carlon would give Coot an audience to see if there would be other applications that a smart minion like him could invest himself into.

Carlon decided to voice his opinion on the whole elite minion squad. "I will admit. They do their jobs well."

Gnarl, clasping his hands together, spoke his as well. "But of course, sire! The five that had been rescued, because of your boundless generosity, enabled them to bask in the ranks of the elite minion squad! However, because of certain restraints due to your... Ahem... 'capture, pilfering of equipment, and subsequent escape', the squad needed some extra minion-power to help cover more ground, increasing from four to eight members. True, the three of the other minions are novices, whereas one is specialized to transport the whole squad, they still display a set of skills and attain certain knowledge about this world that makes them invaluable to the squad as a whole."

Carlon nodded. "And the four extra minions in the squad?"

"Bill has developed a shining admiration to the mechanical and the automotive. Namely, in this case, a vehicle that he has self taught himself to drive, repair, and tune, naming it Trucky! Then there is Bake. He might not seem like it, but he had quite the affinity in watching explosions. So, in my spare time, before the attempted bank heist at Stilwater in fact, I had him study the various nuances of explosive engineering and bomb disposal."

"Bomb disposal?"

"Yes. I can assure you in confidence that the explosive we raided earlier can be safely dismantled, if needed. Now that you know that we have an expert on things that go 'boom', I would bet five rat spleens that you feel more comfortable about having that bomb here!"

"Even though he is a red?"

"I'm aware of the irony, sire." Gnarl said, rolling his yellow eyes. "But now, I shall resume where I left off. Rake, a green minion novice, has the talent to extract information in interrogative instances. Not only that, he specializes in lock picking, pick pocketing, safe cracking, tracking, and detecting hidden traps, hidden doors, and hidden loot."

Carlon raised his eyebrow. "Impressive set of skills for a minion novice!"

"Oh, don't let him hear your praise!" Gnarl huffed in reply. "I would be all day with his cheery smile that makes me want to push him down some stairs. That, and he might try to get your attention and prattle on about this board game he is fascinated with, called 'Dee and Dee', or something silly sounding like that."

"But what about the blue minion? He doesn't seem like the others."

"Well... No. I was hoping that a little rough and tumble on his first mission would harden him up some, but I suppose Coot is just too far gone with his linguistic skills. In all honesty, when it comes to experience, it wasn't my first choice to have a minion with the experience level of a newborn become enrolled in the minion elite. But my hands were tied at the time, and a minion with innate ability to learn quickly could help us with covert information gathering and strategic power plays."

"He does seem smarter than the other minions."

"Being smart is an eccentricity that not many minions are inclined to have, sire! Once a minion lives past a hundred years, they usually become wizened enough to act as an authoritative guide to the other minions, and become a devoted servitor to their current overlord. Usually becoming minion masters, advisors, instructors and the like." Gnarl turned to Carlon. "However, sire, there are the odd cases where a minion is spawned with above average intelligence. Extremely above average intelligence! Prodigal minions are few and far between, rarely spawning within the span of a hundred years or so."

Carlon nodded, but his face then frowned with confusion. "Odd that you bring this up now, but... I suppose this was not the minion factoid that wasn't important, or was an issue to my rule."

"Correct, sire."

"With that being said... Were you spawned as a prodigal minion?"

"... Uh... Well... My mind is a bit fuzzy remembering instances from my past..." Gnarl said, rubbing the back of his scabby head.

Carlon knew from the tell. A simple unconscious gesture was all it took for Carlon to fit the pieces together. "Aaaahhh... So if I were to guess... You too were a minion that was spawned as a prodigy! And if I'm not too far from my estimation... I think you might be jealous of Coot." He teased.

Gnarl shot an angry look at Carlon with a hideous scowl before going off on a rant. "Oh fine! Yes, I'm a little green in the ears! Is it too hard for me to express that I am concerned that there could be a minion that is smarter than me? Coot apparently excels in the thinking department, and I'm over here worried that I might have to give away my role of minion master to a young blue someday!"

"I don't know, Gnarl." Carlon said, leaning back into his throne. "He does seem a little inexperienced. Having him as the new minion master right away might slow everyone down, and I can't have that. But I am curious... What is a rank that is below minion master anyway?"

"Well I'm glad that you won't will for me to be replaced by a new face anytime soon!" Gnarl said, sighing in relief and relaxed. Gnarl then stroked his goatee and contemplated on his master's question. "And as for the rank below mine... I think such a rank would usually be reserved for the elites in the elite minion squad, sire."

Carlon sighed. "Figures. ... Well... How about this." Carlon leaned forward and explained. "If Coot can manage to gain enough experience to be called a raiser of hell, then maybe I can allow you to have him be under your wing, or something? Or if you are uncomfortable about that, then... I guess have him manage one of the minion tribes in your stead?"

Gnarl turned to Carlon again and pondered this new train of thought. "So... Basically have a minion master in training, but to manage only one of the minion tribes?"

Carlon nodded. "Something of the sort."

Gnarl nodded and looked at his feet, then looked back up at The Overlord. "Why would you want for a minion upstart like Coot to work under me?"

"It's simple. You're not exactly the spriest minion in your older years. I'm just making sure that you don't overwork yourself and get a heart attack one day, or something else. That way, if someone decides that you should be forcibly 'retired', like, say, someone thrusting a knife in your neck and makes certain you don't get back up again, you would at least have trained someone to be your replacement. Or at the very least, teach someone to perform your work while you are away or indisposed with something. Think of it like... a manager gaining a co-manager in a business."

"... Hmm! I'll have to ponder on this for a while. But... I suppose that by the time it will take Coot to learn from his missions and become wizened for it... I suppose I will come up with an answer after that time! I'll have to use my old mind to think up a name for this new sub-rank, too." Gnarl said, pondering and walking off in a random direction.

Carlon rose up from his seat. "Alright then. I'm off to see the Brickston forward base." He said, going forth to the netherworld tower's chandelier/claw.

"Hmm?" Gnarl turned around and saw The Overlord approaching the hanging gate. "Oh! You go ahead and do that, sire. I'll have my magic mirror at the ready! Do you have your enchanted earpiece for your substitute persona?"

Carlon reached into his armor and brought out what looked like a hearing aid that was just a semi-looped band of arcanium, showing it to Gnarl.

"Good. Now remember, sire. A little makeup on your skin might hide the flow of your inner mana from prying eyes, or acquiring clothing that can cover much of your skin for the same effect. But it doesn't necessarily make it so that people can't recognize who you are if they are invading your space and inspecting your person. More importantly, your glowing eyes are a dead giveaway. You're better off getting a pair of eyewear that can block out all forms of light."

"So... a pair of sunglasses... Pfuh! Any eyewear with a glass lens is a bitch to see through." Carlon tried wearing a pair of glasses one time, but found out that the light made by his own eyes was reflected back from the glass lens. Made it near impossible to see during the day, let alone during the night where the light from his eyes could be seen from any kind of pair of sunglasses, no matter the brand.

"Please bear with the blindness, sire. In fact, bring several brands of sunglasses with you for Forge Master Giblet to tinker with. I have a little idea on what we can do with them."

Carlon nodded, then went into the hanging netherworld gate. "What I would murder for some specialized custom design contact lenses." Carlon said, gritting his teeth as he left the netherworld.

* * *

Once Carlon emerged from the netherworld gate situated in the basement of an apartment, Carlon was set upon several minions moving in and out of the minion gates to appropriate the forward base with minion-based weaponry and equipment, shoving stored furniture and shelves of things aside for more mischievous devices. When some of the minions tried to enter their respective portals when Carlon was present, they instead noticed their overlord's presence and gave him a salute, before continuing with their duties.

Carlon walked forward and turned to face the netherworld gate, with the minion gates just below the main entrance. The carved stalagmite 'fingers' that circled around the gate had little room to maneuver, which resulted in the fingers puncturing straight into the floor above. The blue mist that was released from the mouth of the netherworld gate swirled and fogged the ceiling of the basement. The blue mist was dialed down just to keep it from building up too much in the basement. ... Actually, Carlon didn't know what would happen if too much of the blue mist is pumped into an enclosed room. If anything, the basement might need some kind of air current coming in, or a vent filtration system that vents the blue mist during the day. That way, Carlon won't need to find out what would happen with a netherworld gate in an enclosed room. But at the moment, the blue mist was contained.

But anyway, on to more important things. "Twenty five wolf riders, nine reds and greens, seven blues." By his command, the minions responded by flowing out from the respective minion gates, where the wolves were eventually thrown out of the main gate in a flailing display, only to be jumped and ridden on by the brown minions. Once all the minions had formed behind Carlon, he suddenly realized that he made an error. "... Oh. Uh... Hmm... Actually, return back to the netherworld." ... The minions Carlon had recently summoned paused and looked at one another in confusion. Their master turned around to face them to see their lapse in obeying orders. "Did I stutter? MOVE!"

The minions in his command hurriedly went back to their respective minion gates, while the wolves were pushed back into the main gate. Carlon would have wanted to bring some minions with him, seeing as though they represent the backbone of his power. But sadly, this will have to be a mission where using such a large horde would just attract too much attention. And the last thing Carlon wanted was to scare his enemies away. But even then, there still needed to be a driver to haul his keister to his destinations. "Gnarl, do you think Bill and his... 'Trucky' can pick me up? I am in need of transportation."

 _"Actually, Bill has been appraising various vehicles and vehicle parts, to be taken apart and reused for his favorite automotive device. Despite my preference to advise you from taking any 'hand-me-down' items for your own use, we mustn't lose time by walking from one place to another either! I shall inform Bill that you need a transport."_

Carlon nodded, and walked to the stairway that lead out of the basement.

After exiting the basement levels and finding the entrance of the apartment, Carlon opened the doors and found the city of Steelport greeting him once again. People that were passing by the apartment entrance saw Carlon and gave him a concerned glare. Despite the different make of armor design, he still stuck out like a sore thumb. They gave him a wide birth, but they didn't recognize him as The Saint Killer of Stilwater. Carlon was in luck, but such luck would not last if he were to mingle with these peasants any more than he needed to. Especially if they were to see his eyes.

A truck of a hideous and ramshackle design had skidded to a halt in front of the apartment garage and waited there patiently. Carlon knew that this hideous eyesore was Bill's 'Trucky'. The driver of this vehicle poked his head out and looked toward Carlon. "Ey! Master! Come in passenger side and take seat next to me!"

Carlon sighed and ventured toward the truck and opened the passenger door, only to step into what might as well be his metal coffin. He also made a mental note not to sit too sharply in the upholstery, since his new armor can easily poke holes into the car seat. But even then, there were holes in the leather already. Carlon looked over and reached for the seat belt... of which there wasn't one. "Uh..." Carlon began. "... How do you buckle up in this thing?"

"Mud chewed chair belt off a while ago. But still, Gnarl said you need car that can drive, so I drive master to one that can!"

"You blaming things on Mud, Bill? Mud will give you big punishings after we drop Mastah off!"

Carlon turned around and saw a minion in riot gear sitting between two blue minions. Carlon immediately recognized him, by his third person way of talking and by his appearance. Bill, however, was having none of that. "No one likes a back seat driver, Mud. Yous can sit right there, or share with reds and greens in way-way back!"

Mud then proceeded to sit there, grumbling loudly for everyone to hear. And Carlon proceeded to sit in the passengers seat for dear life as Mud transported his master to a possible vehicle that can be used.

* * *

After what seemed like minutes of manic driving, the roller coaster ride on the roadways finally came to a stop. The very second that Bill had finally parked Trucky, Carlon opened the passenger door and hurled himself out and nearly vomited right then and there. Even though Carlon had managed to collect some lifeforce as Bill rammed into whatever pedestrians got in their way during the trip, Carlon had very much decided not to let a minion drive him around ever again. At least not any time soon.

 _"Did you enjoy the ride, sire?"_ Gnarl said, unseen to all, but only heard.

"HURGH!... Um... I'm fine. Remind me never to let a minion drive me around." Carlon said, using an axe as a short crutch to get himself off of the ground again. He still felt very uneasy in the stomach. As it turns out, the only thing worse that falling through a plane as it flies toward you is a minion driving you around in a haphazard truck. Who knew?

 _"Please bear with the elite minion squad, sire. They try to do their best."_ Gnarl replied. _"But here we are! Your new metal chariot awaits!"_

Carlon looked up and saw an abandoned vehicle. By his eyes, it looked to be of another four-seater car. _What is the brand name of this car again? Zeon? Neutron? ... Oh yeah. Neuron._ Carlon thought, approaching the vehicle and getting in. He then jammed his thumb into the ignition and forced it to turn on. After revving the engine a few times, Carlon peered from his window to speak to Bill of the elite minion squad. "So let me get this straight. You take apart these cars so that you can fix your truck?"

Bill nodded excitedly. "Yes yes yes! I also take things from other cars to decorate Trucky with too!"

"Mm. ... Well... I'm going to go to an auto shop to get this vehicle upgraded to my specifications. Feel free to go there when the manager has been enslaved." Carlon said, settling into his new vehicle and driving to the next destination.

Carlon could guess that Bill was elated to know that he could get more truck parts for his Trucky from the car modification shop. And Carlon happen to know just the place to visit.

* * *

After visiting a mechanic, oddly owning an establishment named after a sexual double entendre called 'Rim Jobs', Carlon's Neuron was kitted out with the most highest priced modifications at the very low cost of free. His new car was heavily armored in the frame and bumpers, had nitrous for that needed speed boost, speed and torque improvements, and kneecappers that were just spikes that come out of the wheels when Carlon achieved a certain amount of speed. It was colored black and silver with red and gold flames trailing the sides and hood.

Carlon would rather get back his custom bus from Stilwater and drive that around instead of this lackluster vehicle. But sadly, there was no mechanic shops that could support large vehicle customizations in this city. If Carlon really wanted it, he could just take apart his favored vehicle piece by piece, transport the parts through the netherworld gate, and put it back together here in Steelport.

But that will have to wait, since Carlon pulled in front of a store. He hadn't seen this store before in Stilwater.

'Thin Ice Impressions' was read on the top of the store, as Carlon got out of his car and entered the new establishment. A rather unusual name for a store, since Carlon remembered little to why such a store would combine the names of two stores he knows of back in Stilwater.

Truth be told, there was a corporate merging of two store franchises that had eventually created a re-branding of the store's names. The reason why it didn't happen in Stilwater was because much of the building planning was constantly managed and controlled by The Overlord. Within the store, everything looked clean, respectable, posh, and orderly with a mixture of bright and shiny jewelry and extravagant accessories. Everything Carlon hated was in such a store, the gaudy and boring displays making him want to burn everything. But that might as well come later. He began using his evil presence spell on the store owner first, and then perusing the wares and adorning his person with a selection of clothes at his leisure. The thing about enslaved store owners is that they give you all the money they earned and they give you a discount of $0.00 on all purchases. It may be good to be a king, but it's immorally better to be an overlord.

After Carlon was done with his clothes shopping, he was adorned with a business jacket, slacks, a bowler cap, and loafers. He also wore sunglasses that would help to conceal his eyes. But there was the problem of seeing out of the sunglasses as well. The light emitted from his own glowing eyes, predictably, reflected back from the lenses and limited his vision. What he wouldn't give to dial down his glowing eyes and be able to see. He could squint his eyes and reduce the reflected light, but his vision would remain about the same.

There was only one accessory that was required to be equipped. He put on the arcanium 'hearing aid' onto his ear and heard the familiar voice of Gnarl. _"You look quite dapper in peasant clothing, sire! Shame that I don't have the face or physique to wear their wares."_

"Gnarl. As much as I like to hear your musings, I have came across a problem." Carlon said, flexing in his new clothes.

 _"Oh dear. What might that be?"_ Carlon turned and pointed at the empty set of armor on the ground. _"Oh... Hmm! I suppose that is a problem! ... Uh... Why is it a problem?"_

"Am I supposed to carry my own armor back to the netherworld gate on my own?"

 _"Ohhh! Yes, I understand completely now! I'm sure that if you, ahem, 'ask' the enslaved clerk to do the dirty work for you, I'm sure he will bring the armor to our forward base at the Brickston apartments. Simple, yes?"_

"Mm." Carlon turned and approached the front desk where the cashier awaited patiently. "I command you, slave. Do my bidding."

"I obey, my lord." The cashier droned, bowing to The Overlord.

"Take my armor and transport it to the apartment in Brickston." Carlon said, pointing to the armor he came in the store with. "So much as scratch it, and I will personally shove my fist into your body and start pulling out random organs."

"Yes, my lord. Right away." The cashier said. He abandoned his post to do as he was commanded, getting a large box to gently place Carlon's armor in. After everything was fitted into the large box, the cashier then lifted the box and proceeded to the back of the store, his knees nearly buckling under the weight of the armor.

Carlon sighed in relief and proceeded to the front of the store.

Or would have when several cars of red and black parked in the street.

Carlon's eyes grew wide when he saw a hulking mass of meat get off the back of a truck and barreled through the entrance of the store only to look around wildly. Carlon stood still in shock. Not in fear, but in surprise. _"What in the ever loving of evil is that thing?"_ Despite Gnarl being the minion to say it, Carlon was thinking the same thing.

Men and women in red and black soon followed after the hulking man and pointed their guns in random directions and at Carlon. They too looked around wildly. The hulking man decided to speak his mind. "Where metal man?" He shouted indignantly within the store.

"... Sources say that a man in a suit of armor walked into this store." One of the Morningstar members said.

"Well were is the man in armor?" Another said.

"No idea. Could it be one of those cosplayers from Let's Pretend?"

"No way to tell."

"Where is the teller?"

"Again, no idea. Must be taking a shit or something."

One of them slowly turned and saw someone staring at them in a curious manner. "Hey you. Have you seen a man in a twisted looking medieval armor walk into the store?" She asked Carlon.

... Carlon couldn't believe it! His disguise worked! "Uh... My vision is not as good when I was younger. But I did hear some boots made of metal come through here." Carlon said. That was technically true, since his vision wasn't as impaired when he was a minute or so younger. That and he did hear his own metal boots enter the store. "... Can I, uh... Leave?"

The Morningstar thug sneered at Carlon. "I'm not your damn parole officer. Get out, or get put down."

Carlon had to use every fiber of his being to not pull out his axe and cut down the offender. Instead, he walked away to let them be dumbfounded about not finding their target. That was incredibly close, and at the same time exhilarating. _"Oof! I was on pins and needles there!"_

"I know! Did you see how big that fella was?" Carlon said in a whisper.

 _"I am aware of that brute's apparent hugeness, sire! But we came out and got what you needed, and so I think it's now the time to retreat to safer territories! You're basically naked of all defenses without your armor!"_

Carlon nodded. "The cashier had better bring it to the apartment." Carlon then proceeded to his car, got in, and drove back to his forward base in Brickston.

There needs to be a lot of information digging to find out about the huge man that Carlon nearly fought today. Even as strong as Carlon was without his armor, being in a fist fight with that... Brute, as Gnarl called it, would have been too much. Even then, he was without his armor. But discretion proved to be a better weapon as he went out of the store unscathed and anonymously.

But in order to exact punishment to The Syndicate, Carlon would need to control more of this miserable city. And that would mean more forward bases.

* * *

 **A/N: Alright. Well... I'm going to put this story on hold and do something different. An idea struck my head and I can't think of anything else to do for Carlon's story because of it. I want to make another story. Sometimes, writing too much on just one subject can make creativity dull.  
**

 **In any case, please review and critique. Tell me what I did wrong, and what I did right. But overall, thank you for reading my story and giving me praise for it. Remember! Evil always finds a way! 'w'7**


	10. Dominating the Party

Chapter 10: Dominating the Party

* * *

Upon returning to the netherworld, Carlon has given his newly bought sunglasses to Gnarl, to give to forge master Giblet. After that, Carlon had spent the next day investigating The Syndicate's gangs and how they divide the city.

Because that this Syndicate organization seems to operate with the leaders of three different gangs of different affiliations, it's going to take Carlon's full attention to bring them down. Specifically Phillipe Loren. Luckily, the elite minion squad Gnarl had instated was dividing the gangs attention.

Trafficking the illegal minion brew into Steelport, for one, was a job that was tasked to the squad. Despite the psychotropic properties of the minion beer, it also happened to be quite addictive. It turns out that illegalizing something does nothing when your target consumers happen to be winos and alcoholics of questionable morals, and Steelport happens to be full of such people. Despite the elite minion squad dividing their attention between selling the brew to buyers and fighting off Morningstar, which was their main competition, the elite minions squad was doing a competent job. Carlon even heard that the squad had fought a Morningstar brute and lived. Well... So long as they were making money, Carlon cared not on how they returned. It's always good to make more money, yet so deliciously evil to steal it instead.

Aside from that, there was also a moment where Bill, the designated driver of the elite minion squad, had somehow found an empty, fully functional tank. Even Gnarl had no idea how Bill managed to commandeer one that was mysteriously left alone at the time. He even made the headlines in the news. Bill considered it as his greatest moment in his entire minion life. The minion was accused of being responsible for flattening forty six cars, running over sixty eight people, and had caused sixty seven million dollars of damage to the city.

Despite the madness the minions have caused, Carlon sighed deeply as he mused over what to do next. His advisor, Gnarl the minion master, stood by his side and watched him diligently, ever so loyal. After taking a long time to think of a plan, Carlon decided to break the silence of his quiet contemplation after staring at the hanging map that showed Steelport, hanging in front of him as he sat on his obsidian throne. "... Alright, I think it's time to take down one of their forward bases."

"Of course, sire!" Gnarl said with a sadistic smile. "It would be quite terrible for them, if one of their fortifications was suddenly under our control. What do you have in mind?"

"A two pronged assault on this building, called 'The Morningstar Penthouse'." Carlon said, pointing to a building in Sunset Park on the map. "I'm thinking that the elite minion squad should storm into the first floor of this building and make their way straight to the top floor. They'll be responsible for carrying enough soil to help me create the minion gates I'll need. After that, we'll descend level by level and either kill or drive out the current residence, then establish a netherworld gate in the lowest level of the building."

"An excellent plan, sire." Gnarl said. "But in this modern time, I do believe that these Morningstar people must have built some defenses to keep themselves protected. I would recommend sending the squad first before you yourself enter."

"I won't be entering after the elite minion squad, or any of the ground floor entrances."

"Come again?"

"The squad will be focused in infiltrating from the ground, whilst I will start from the top, fortify the top of the building, make my way down and slay any enemy that doesn't clear out in time."

"... Would that mean you'll... Oh~. I now see! You'll be commandeering one of those flying vehicles to get you to the top of the penthouse!"

"Exactly. I'll be commanding a pilot to drop me off with as many minions his or her helicopter can carry. After I and my horde touch down, that would be the cue to attack."

"Then a visit to the airport will be on our to-do list before we attack. I'll tell the elite minion squad to get themselves ready." Gnarl said, hobbling away to tell the good news.

"And I'll get my armor back on. I don't think I need my disguise for this mission." Carlon said, rising up and heading towards the forge room.

* * *

As Carlon traveled into the forge chamber, the foundation of Carlon's overlording empire, he saw Giblet working again on his project, being helped by another minion with red hair.

... Wait. Red hair? Did one of the minions scalped someone recently?

"Giblet. I need my armor." Carlon called out, breaking the metalwork cacophony.

Giblet, and what seemed like his assistant, perked their ears up and stopped what they did. Giblet went toward his master while the other minion watched. "Giblet here, master! Giblet has made alt-er-aye-shuns with black glasses, like how Gnarl told Giblet master wanted them!"

Carlon cocked his head. "... Care to explain?"

"It simple, master! Giblet remake black glasses so light no shine through in one way, or blind master on other way. It good black glasses that master can wears without making master blind! Or making people know you is master from glowy eyeses on dark dark nights!"

From what Carlon could surmise from Giblet's... explanation... is that he made the lenses of the sunglasses unable to let his eyes shine through, and that he won't be blinded by his own eye's reflection. At least that was Carlon's interpretation. "We're getting distracted here. Giblet. My equipment. Now."

Giblet nodded, then scuttled to the armory to assemble the overlord's armor, his master eventually meeting him again.

The minion with red hair watched in awe as Carlon was quickly fitted with arcanium armor and an arcanium axe. His pauldrons were dangerously spiked, his gauntlet's fingers was exceptionally pointy, and renewed vigor seemed to seep out of his eyes when his head was graciously equipped with his helmet. The clothing shop owner of the store called 'Thin Ice Impressions' did well to keep his armor from being scratched. After everything was equipped, Carlon shrugged and flexed his shoulders and made his way out of the netherworld forge room.

After Giblet was done servicing his overlord, he went back to the other minion. The other minion, however, was still in awe. "So that's the master, ey?"

"Yeh. That was master. If you do good job, then you might get to make something for master one day. Until then, you are Giblet's second-hand, and apprentice."

The other minion shrugged. "I know, I know! I'm just very eager working on the first day of my job."

"Gnarl may know how best to manage evil things, just as master know how to do evil things, but Giblet will tie your hair to wolfy tail if you not do good enough job." Giblet said, continuing with his project.

The other minion sighed, brandishing a hammer and continued working with Giblet. "I just hope Mr. Gnarl knows what he's doing, putting me under your wing."

* * *

An hour had passed, and the day had eventually became dusk. High up in the sky, the night air had became cool and crisp again. Blades from a helicopter was furiously cutting the air as it flew toward its destination. Within the rotorcraft was an enslaved pilot, ten minions, and The Overlord. After Carlon had found a helicopter pilot and 'borrowed' an air-worthy aircraft, the mission would begin once he arrived.

Sadly, he had to share the passenger cabin with the minions. Thankfully, the entire horde consisted of only brown minions. Were they red minions instead, they might have lighted something vital on fire during flight. And if they were green minions, they would stink up the cabin unless a window was opened, which would no doubt be left open for the whole flight. And having blue minions would just make everything soggy.

 _"Sire, are you comfy?"_ Gnarl said to Carlon, from the comfort of the netherworld.

Carlon grunted as he pushed a minion off of his lap. "If I somehow knew that you were capable of sarcasm, and if I found out you used some at me right then, I swear on my axe that I'm going to kick you down a long flight of stairs." He said, grumpily.

 _"... In any case, the elite minion squad is now positioned and ready to act. Give the word by your command!"_ Gnarl said, changing the subject. _  
_

Carlon nodded and looked outside the passenger window, taking in the sites of the penthouse from a bird's-eye view. The penthouse was a tall building that was alight with pink lights on the side, built with a landing pad that can support parking for helicopters. He could also see that the top of the building was bustling with people that was enjoying themselves. Judging from the activity, it must be a social gathering.

 _"Looks like a festive time is being had by all, down there. Time to start our own party, one filled with death and mayhem! Hahahaha~!"_

"Take us down, pilot!" Carlon shouted. After the command, the aircraft descended noisily onto the helipad. After the safe landing, Carlon and his horde of minions came out of the aircraft. Even though Carlon COULD have used a parachute and landed at the party a different way, he would have to steal ten more parachutes for his minions and teach them how to use their parachutes. But teaching the minions to use the parachutes would require a lot of time and too much effort. Besides, arriving to the party in this fashion gave off a certain elegance that told everyone that someone important is here. Sadly, the very second he came out of the helicopter, Carlon saw that nearly all of the 'guests' and 'patrons' were pointing their guns at his direction. But the good news is that they didn't start immediately firing at him.

One person of the Morningstar gang members in the party came up to him, pointing a rifle in Carlon's direction and dressed in a clean black and red suit. He had a surprised expression on his face, but it was eventually twisted into a bewildered smile. "Ha ha ha, what is this? Are you that same guy that is known as The Saint Killer of Stilwater?"

"The same." Carlon answered bluntly. He didn't reach for his axe or his SMG weapons. At least not yet.

"Well ain't this a big surprise! I can't believe that someone like you would find your way into this party! Hell, I can't even imagine your powers and hokey pokey existence, since I believe that that is just a rumor! And I thought those goblins of yours would be bigger in appearance!" The man said, approaching closer with his weapon trained on the overlord. "But then again... I also can't imagine why you would want to crash into our party uninvited either."

"It's simple, simpleton." Carlon growled. "I want everyone out of this penthouse. I claim this building as my property as of now, and all of you are intruding."

The man scoffed and smirked. "... Really?"

"Really."

The man's expression changed to a deadpan stare. "You do realize that you are outgunned, outnumbered, and that you have pissed off the most powerful man in this city? From what I heard, you caused a lot of problems to our organization, and, understandably, Mr. Loren is not happy about that." He trained the rifle to Carlon's face. "What makes you think we're just going to give this penthouse, and everything in it, to you?"

"Because I'm the overlord." He plainly said.

The man scoffed again and started firing his rifle into Carlon's face. After a burst of bullet fire, the man's face was filled with smiling pride. He had it in his mind that if he killed Phillipe Loren's current headache, he might be promoted to a higher position and given a bonus after today. But when the man checked the overlord afterwards, his face was that of surprise again.

Carlon's entire body glowed a golden color the moment that the man pulled the trigger. The glow then faded seconds after the shooting. Carlon shook his head rapidly, dislodging an errant bullet from the helm of his armor and stared threateningly at the offending man. "... You know, rather than just asking politely for you to leave, I think I'm going to kill you last, after I take control of this building."

The man froze in place, his face still full of surprise and now filled with horror. He couldn't move, scream, or plead, as he was paralyzed by fear. It was at this moment that all the rumors he ever heard about The Overlord were true.

 **"ATTACK!"** Carlon shouted, raising his left hand up and letting lightning flow from his fingers. The ten minions in Carlon's horde rushed ahead in all directions to delve in melee combat against the Morningstar gang members. A few minions were plucked off from the bullet fire, though several of Carlon's enemies have been clubbed and punched out of commission in turn. At least they were distracting them for a scant moment for Carlon to strip the man's will away completely.

 _"Sire. I'm being told that the other invasion force is having difficulty getting on the freight elevator. Apparently, Coot is prattling on about asking for a number code?"_

Carlon sighed, then turned to his newly enslaved thrall. "Simpleton. Is there a door code for the freight elevator?"

"Yes, master." The man, now seemingly anointed the name Simpleton, said. "The code to the freight elevator is three one three one."

"Grand. Now assist me in killing your friends in this party."

"Yes master." Simpleton said, now aiming his rifle at his own allies and firing at them.

Carlon brought out his SMG's and added to the cacophony of gunfire, Simpleton also joining in with his rifle. The best thing about using the evil presence spell was that it can create new allies very quickly, provided that someone is alive, has a will of their own, and is nearby. Despite the death that is occurring between Morningstar and the overlord's forces, the overlord had no shortage of allies to his call, especially with his use of the evil presence spell. Even then, Carlon's armor was very fortified against bullets that are not anti-armor, and he used that to his advantage by waltzing forward and shooting anyone that is not under his command.

By the time the entire top-side complex was made barren of enemies, Carlon had already 'made friends' with six other Morningstar gang members, yet he had only two brown minions left remaining in his horde. Even if Carlon could find more Morningstar and 'persuade' them to join his side, minions were far more useful since they fare very well in giving their lives away to take the lives of their master's enemies. He turned to his six recruited 'friends'. "You five, stay here and shoot at the Morningstar guards that are not on my side. Simpleton, you come with me."

"Yes master." Simpleton droned, following after Carlon.

Carlon eventually found a stairwell within this massive penthouse and traveled down, wandering into what looked like a storage area filled with pallets and boxes. _"Ooh, looky there, sire! Explosives!"_

Upon hearing Gnarl's exclamation, Carlon turned and looked down to see what looked like green pineapples that can fit in his palm. "... These are fragmentation grenades. Kind of convenient to find some here."

 _"From what I understand on how they are used, sire, all you have to do is pull the pin, throw it at a problem, and the problem will go away in a loud, violent, and destructive cacophony! ... Oh, and try not to be too close to it when it goes off, my lord. That wooden barricade in front of us, for example, might need to, heheh, disappear!"_

"Hmm... Alright." Carlon looked at several of the pocketable items, yet carefully perused one in his hand. He first saw these things implemented in action shoot-em-up movies, but he felt the need to be wary when handling these hand-thrown explosives. Even then, they were incredibly simple to use, limited in number, and massive in tactical advantages. He fondly remembered using them at the base Sierra Point.

Carlon carefully pulled the pin, but was jarred suddenly when an explosion rocked him, almost knocking him off balance. Apparently, there was Morningstar stationed behind the barricade, and they wanted to surprise their intruder.

"He's coming! Get to cover!" Said a Morningstar thug in the next room.

Carlon shook his head and soon realized that the grenade he once had in his hand had mixed with grenades that hasn't had their pins removed. Without wasting precious time in looking for the pin-less grenade, he picked up and threw all the grenades at the general direction of the voice that called about going into cover. There was several concussive loud sounds that happened seconds later, supposedly killing several Morningstar thugs. Once silence had befallen in the next room, Carlon carefully aimed his SMGs and gingerly walked ahead, proceeding forward with Simpleton and two minions right behind him. "... That almost ended badly for me."

 _"It's a good thing that it ended badly for them, instead! Call the freight elevator and let's get some minion gates placed."_

Carlon called the elevator, summoning it to transport the minion squad and soil to the top of the building. Carlon waited and waited, sighing impatiently. Apparently, waiting inside of an elevator till you reach your floor is about as bad as waiting for the elevator to reach the floor you're on. At least the monotony was broken by, surprise surprise, gunfire. Non-enslaved Morningstar rounded the corner and took aim at the overlord, which can only mean that the guards he recently stationed had fell. Bullets plinked and grazed his armor, forcing him to turn and face his enemies to aim and fire his SMGs at them. They predictably took cover, but at least they offered him the means to pass the time. With a reflexive hand gesture, he sent the remaining minions in his horde to deal with this new threat. Additional gunfire and screams of bloody murder was heard afterwards. Only one of his minions returned, and Carlon hypothesized that the Morningstar thugs must have had another way of getting into the penthouse. Possibly a helicopter.

When this wave of Morningstar suits fell dead, the elevator doors finally opened, revealing four minions within, on top of a pile of sacks. "Mud and elite squad is here, Mastah!" said a brown minion in riot gear.

After a quick glance to the contents of the elevator, Carlon then turned the other way and pointed to the other side of the room. "Empty the sacks there. I'll watch the choke point."

"Yes Mastah! Choke the point and we empty sacks! Mud's Squad! Do what Mud is doing!" Mud said, picking up a dirty sack to empty its contents at the indicated location. The three other minions, whom seemed like Flames, Snake, and Heals, joined in with Mud's task.

Carlon was quick to notice the decrease of numbers in the squad, however. "... What happened to your squad? Wasn't it supposed to have eight minions instead of four?"

Mud stopped in his task to talk to his overlord, but the three other minions continued with their work. "Yah! Rake says he saw something very hidden and trappy like, and Coot wanted to break squad into two squads! Mud said no, but Gnarl said do it anyway. That how it happened."

Carlon paused. There was traps in this building? That didn't sound good to him. He couldn't possibly imagine what those traps could be either. Pitfalls, lowering ceilings, floor spikes, darts, poison gas, and various unpleasant ideas filled his head. But now was not the time to entertain such thoughts. For now, he needed to capture this building, and refurbish it as a forward base. Soon enough, when all the sacks of soil was carried from the freight elevator and emptied in the specified spot, Carlon approached the small pile of dirt and then reached into his nether seed sack. He found a seed, charged it, and tossed it into the pile of dirt. Four minion gates of differing colors immediately bursts from the dirt pile. Carlon focused on the gates and forced them to obey his will, still hot from being recently formed. "Twenty browns, fifteen reds, ten greens, and five blues, to my side!" Shouted Carlon.

Carlon turned and then went back the way he came, knowing that the minions he summoned will follow him soon enough, evident by the pattering sounds of minion footsteps closing behind him. He didn't care about reviving the minions he brought with him on the helicopter. It was faster to spawn minions than raise them back up with the blues.

When he entered the main floor of the penthouse again, he heard a ding to his right. Carlon saw another elevator, with Morningstar trickling out from its doors. Carlon sighed and sent his minions out to greet them, with but a gesture. The enforced horde of minions had easily demolished this recent wave of Morningstar, the victory quickly leaning to Carlon's favor. If Carlon had anything to say on the matter of minions, he would recommend to anyone who is ever going to be an overlord to have minions, since they make every job easier. And then Carlon would promptly conquer the overlord wannabe, and assert his rule over their kingdom in typical overlord fashion.

But the Morningstar gangsters wouldn't make it any easier for the overlord that is loose in their penthouse. A helicopter descended from the sky and touched down on the helipad, next to Carlon's commandeered helicopter. Carlon was under fire yet again, and he groaned in frustration.

 _"Morningstar air chariots, my lord! With enemy backup!"_

"Obviously." Carlon said, aiming his SMGs at the latest threat and firing empty ammunition at his enemies. Carlon dumbly paused for a second as he inspected his dual weapons, all the while being fired upon by the Morningstar. "... Wait, am I out of ammo?" Carlon checked his person, ignoring the gunfire that riddled his armor. After a thorough perusal of his person, he can conclude that he has no more SMG ammunition. "... Grah, whatever. I need to practice my axe swinging anyway." Carlon said, unsheathing his melee weapon and rushing toward the latest threat.

The Morningstar tried to keep themselves away from the overlord's reach of his axe. However, one by one, their numbers dwindled. The last of the defending Morningstar had her chest cleaved by a burning axe, followed by a boot that dislodged her from said axe, forcing her to walk back and then fall from the helipad, only to descend to the ground far below, her blood trailing behind her. Despite the last of the Morningstar slain or controlled, Gnarl decided to break the silence. _"Sire, I'm afraid to inform you that the building you are on is a trap!"_

"I already know that it has traps, Gnarl. Mud told me." Carlon said, giving his Forest Bane an additional swing to get blood off of it.

 _"No no no, I didn't mean to say that it HAS traps. It IS a trap! Coot has informed me that the whole building is set to blow up!"  
_

Carlon paused. "... Blow up? There are bombs in this building?"

 _"Well... There are SEVERAL bombs, yes."_ Gnarl said, flatly.

"I needed to know that there were bombs in this building, Gnarl! Otherwise, I would have attacked this building differently!" Carlon said, motioning to the pilot that he had enslaved earlier to start his helicopter up.

 _"On the bright side, you appeared to have eliminated the establishment of its pests. ... Hmm? What is it? Oh. Alright, I'll tell him. Ahem. Sire! Coot's squad has found the bomb, but his demolition expert, Bake, doesn't really have enough time to disarm it."_

"Then what would you suggest?" Carlon asked, heading to his helicopter. However, he stopped when he saw another helicopter hovering above him. He stared at it for a few moments before it turned around and started flying away.

 _"Perhaps there is someone you could ask?"_

Carlon nodded, turning to the one Morningstar member still alive. "Simpleton! Do you know how to defuse the bomb in this building!?"

"I don't, my lord." Simpleton said, droning his words in a praising way to Carlon. "But there is a lieutenant that knows how to disable the bomb in this building, since he was responsible for making it in the first place."

 _"Well. That is promising."_ Gnarl said. _  
_

"Where is the other lieutenant?" Carlon asked.

"It's simple, my lord." Simpleton answered. "The other lieutenant will be going to a warehouse in Stanfield district, in the Salander neighborhood. It's likely that he'll be there to amass his forces."

Carlon nodded, then turned away. "Gnarl, I'm going to the warehouse at Salander. Tell Coot's bomb disposer to standby."

 _"Alright. I'll relay that to Coot, just in case."_ Gnarl said. After that, Gnarl's quiet breathing had stopped, telling Carlon that he was not watched by the elder minion for the moment.

Carlon, on the other hand, had a lieutenant to catch. He turned toward Simpleton again and shouted. "Hey! I want you to stop breathing once I am airborne! Got it?!" He yelled, as Carlon's helicopter pilot had prepared the helicopter.

After Simpleton nodded, Carlon shouted to Mud's divided squad. "Mud! Proceed as planned. I grant you permission to lead my hoard here until my return." After giving Mud permission to command his horde, Carlon boarded back onto the helicopter and took off, coincidentally going into the direction where one of the Morningstar helicopters had traveled to.

Mud, on the other hand, had made a face of pure delight. It was now up to him to eradicate the rest of the Morningstar gang members from the penthouse, and plant the nether seed in the bottom-most level of the building.

* * *

As if the day could get any worse. Technically, it was becoming night as the sun had already set some time ago, but the anti-air ordinance that was aimed at Carlon's aircraft was difficult to predict. "Dodge them faster! But keep going to the Salander warehouses!" Carlon demanded, thankful that helicopters had seat belts.

Apparently, the Morningstar goons had thought ahead and positioned rocket launcher personnel along their aircraft's path, hoping to hinder Carlon's progress. Thankfully, for Carlon's sake, the pilot he had enslaved was actually decently trained. Carlon neared his destination finally, and saw another helicopter that happened to be the same one that had flown away from the penthouse. Carlon's enslaved pilot lowered the aircraft, though it dared not to land.

Gnarl's voice was heard again a while later. _"Not to bother you during you mission, sire, but Coot said that there is a coded timer that has been activated. If you hurry, the penthouse will be ours! But if you take too much time, however, then the building, and the minions inside, will no longer be there when you return. A negligibly small sacrifice, in my opinion."_

"We came too far to just have a forward base turned into a puff of smoke and a crater. I'm getting the code for the bomb." Carlon said as he hurriedly dived out of the helicopter, somersaulted when he touched the ground, and landed in a crouched position with the asphalt under him cracking in complaint. Despite Carlon's fortitude, he had to be careful or risk landing awkwardly and suffer a broken ankle for at least an hour or so. Thank evilness for health regenerating armor.

 _"Actually sire, from what Bake is telling me, there are four wires that needs to be cut. Red, green, blue and black. Unfortunately, they don't know which one to cut!"_

"... Okay? Let me find out. If the minion squad have five seconds left or something, tell them to cut a random wire."

Carlon rushed toward the nearest gunner and struck him down with two swings of his axe. He then picked up the fallen thug's ammunition and used it against the remaining Morningstar in quick fashion, making sure to watch out for any important looking individuals. Switching between using his axe for close quarters combat, and then using two 45 Shepherds for any Morningstar that is out of axe-swinging range turned him into a whirlwind of death and doom, eviscerating anything that dared fight Carlon.

After much carnage, there was only one man left, which was cowering in the deepest part of the warehouse, who was yet another Morningstar lieutenant. Carlon walked up to the cowering Morningstar and stared at him. "Tell me how to disarm the bomb at your penthouse." Carlon said.

"Uhhuhhh..." The lieutenant cowered even more, seemingly shrinking even lower to the ground. "... w-w-w-will you let me go if I tell you?"

"Maybe, if you tell me how to disarm the bomb."

The lieutenant sighed, but he still kept his eyes on the overlord. "... C-c-c-cut the red wire."

Carlon turned around. "Gnarl?"

 _"Relaying to Coot now, sire. But I need to ask. Are you REALLY going to let this whelp go?"_

"Well of course I am. I'm an overlord of my word." Carlon turned around and summoned electricity onto the lieutenant. The man screamed in shock and intense pain as his will was forced from his mind. However, Carlon pushed the evil presence spell further and overcharged it, forcing the Morningstar lieutenant to transform into dust. Carlon sighed as he relaxed and started his walk back. "There. I let him go of his life."

 _"Hyahahahaha~! Excellently done, my lord! Now then, I do believe it's about time to renovate our new forward base."_

* * *

In a dark room of red and pink lights and a wide table in the center, two men assembled. One of which wore a black leather jacket of blue neon accents, while the other was a musclebound man that wore a black suit with a green tie and a luchador mask.

The man in leather decided to talk first. "... The saint killer isn't going to back down."

"Matty, there's nothing to worry about." Said the luchador, currently flexing and practicing his posing.

"My thoughts exactly, Mr. Killbane." Another man walked into the room, two women walking by his side. This man had a black and red suit with a red scarf, a red tie, and a black eye-patch. The two women looked identical to one another, save for the glasses that they wore. Surprisingly, it was Phillipe Loren, guarded by the DeWynter sisters. "The saint killer of Stilwater is nothing more than a white noise of empty threats and pyrotechnic powers."

A vibrating noise was heard from the leather bound man, coincidentally named Matty. He reached into his pockets to view his cellphone and then paled when he saw the message that was sent to him. "With respect, sir..." Matty said, sliding the cellphone across the table for Phillipe to receive.

Phillipe retrieved Matty's cellphone and inspected the message next. Phillipe frowned when he saw Carlon burying his axe into the head of one of his men. The overlord then turned to face the camera and fired a fireball towards it, making the video become bright before blacking out in static.

"I'd say the 'empty' part is no longer applicable." Matty continued.

Phillipe raised an eyebrow. "At least we now know that he has a new set of armor to his disposal."

Matty slumped down and exhaled. "Well... So much for banking on his powers being tied to his armor."

"Don't lose your confidence, Mr. Miller. We know that his equipment and minions have abilities that we don't quite understand. However, with time, I do believe that we can unlock the secrets of his armor, his weapon, and his petits monstres." Phillipe turned to Killbane. "Are you keeping the axe safe?"

"Yeah, I am." Replied the wrestler. "But I still want to get rid of it. Every time I set it down somewhere, it tries to burn the carpet. But I found out that its perfect for lighting the fireplace."

"Why not just put the axe in the fireplace since it's on fire all the time?" Matt said.

Killbane turned to Matt and cocked his head at him. "... Huh. I could do that, couldn't I?"

Phillipe shook his head and sighed. "Well... As long as you keep the overlord's axe safe, there shouldn't be a problem in the near future."

Killbane turned to Phillipe next. "What about you and those 'petits monstres'. Keeping them in cages I bet?"

"We are close to figuring out what they are. Rest assured, genetics is a science that is dangerous if handled wrong."

Matt sat down into a chair and leaned back, stretching. "And before anyone asks me, I'm keeping his armor safe too. You know, making sure that it doesn't fall on someone, or something like that." Matt paused. "... Do you think he'll try to get his stuff back?"

Phillipe nodded. "It's a very likely scenario. I suggest preparing for his arrival in case he has found the location of his equipment and his minions. Comprende?

"Comprende."

"Comprende."

"Bien. Just be ready for something worse to develop when it happens." Phillipe said, sliding Matt's phone back to him and then turning to leave, his two bodyguards following after him.

* * *

 **A/N: Guh. Why did I have the sudden desire to write out a Splatoon and Warhammer 40k crossover? I know nothing about both of the franchises! D:  
**


	11. The Squad and The Master Hits the Powder

**Chapter 11: The Squad and The Master Hits the Powder Room**

* * *

Of all the things that Carlon had done, he never would have thought he would enjoy this sort of activity. However, pride dictates that he wouldn't openly proclaim that.

He was currently in his civvies, cleverly disguised and mingling in the establishment known as 'The Broken Shillelagh'. He found a quiet corner at a table, and settled in with a beer of his choice. Sadly, the establishment did not sell any of the minion brew alcohol, or any expensive vintage for that matter, but he would stay away from the minion brew that was meant for the masses. But even then, the incognito overlord came here for a different reason.

 _"This is the last place that still refuses to sell our merchandise. Identify the proprietor, sire, and 'convince' him that we would benefit from his compliance."_ Gnarl said from within Carlon's glasses.

"I don't want to be here any more than I need to. I'm getting funny looks every time I talk aloud." Carlon said. It was true. Every time he spoke, the customers would idly glance over to him. But they would return to their imbibing and drunken stupor, thinking that this seven foot tall man was drunk and mumbling to himself, or talking on a bluetooth device. They suggested the former since they didn't see a bluetooth on his ear. "... Wait. I thought I came here because you said there was someone that can help us?"

 _"I would not normally request you to use your mighty capabilities on some small operation such as this, but there are times where we must weigh our options and form bargains. The proprietor had resisted the elite minion squad's actions for quite some time, and now it seems he has decided to want to speak to us! They have sent us a letter that says that he wants to speak in hopes of prolonging the eventual destruction of this establishment."_

Carlon quietly scoffed. "Really? I thought I was coming here to acquire information about The Syndicate or Loren."

 _"That's not what we are doing here, sire._ _"_ Gnarl politely chided. _"We-"_

"No!" Carlon grunted, the small outburst catching the attention of nearly half of the customers within the bar. After a cough and a pause, everyone who looked his way shrugged their shoulders and continued on their business. Carlon spoke quietly again. "I want to take down Loren. With him slain, I can restore some semblance of honor. I want to strip him of his power and lay him dead and naked against the earth, warming and wetting it with his blood."

 _"Sigh... Well. I suppose taking The Broken Shillelagh will have to wait."_ Gnarl said, sounding sullen. But then his mood changed instantly. _"In any case, we can always strike at The Syndicate Tower in the Downtown District! I believe that if we are to kill Loren, then that would be where he is located."_

"No. I think they would be prepared for me there. Besides, I would rather hack away at the limbs than go straight for the heart. Loren had stripped me of my armor, weapon, and minions, so I will do the same to him. On a grander scale in fact. I think another siege to another of his buildings will be acceptable." Carlon growled lowly.

 _"Hmm... Well, since we have spent so much time getting acclimated to the city, I can tell you that there is a possible building we can target that houses custom weapons. A warehouse called Powder, which proclaims itself as a gun store, owned by Loren! It's in the neighborhood you're in currently, so taking a brisk walk will get you there quickly."_

Carlon shook his head. "Actually, I'm going to put my gear back on for this. No sense in not being prepared for something that turns tits up. Will I be requiring a helicopter this time?"

 _"No, sire, not this time."_

"Grand." Carlon got up and left the small bar, leaving his cheap beer behind.

* * *

A few hours later, nighttime had crawled its way back into the world. The pink and red lights on and in the warehouse/gun store called Powder was an ominous, yet ostentatious, beacon in the stark darkness after dusk. Officers from Morningstar milled about within the entrance of the store, inspecting the wares and protecting their merchandise, ignorant of the danger that will be coming tonight.

A smelly short man that seemed to be affected by dwarfism hurriedly went to the storefront and peered into the inside of the entrance. After a careful glance, the dwarf hurried back to an armored man with many creatures of similar height to the dwarf. It seemed to join with seven others that were distinct from the horde that was behind the armored man. The dwarf removed his disguise to reveal himself as a green minion, ditching the small sweater, winter jacket and beanie to reveal a black jacket and donning an eye patch. "Many gunmen inside."

"How many?" Carlon asked Snake.

"Er..." The green minion counted his fingers for several seconds before showing his palms and outstretched fingers to his master. "More than this many!"

Carlon sighed. As if he would expect an intelligent answer from a minion.

 _"Sire, perhaps going through the front entrance might invite more risks than rewards."_ Gnarl said.

"What makes you so sure?" Asked Carlon, brandishing two SMGs.

 _"I used the crystal heart's tower view function through Snake's perspective, sire. Judging from the many tens of Morningstar I saw in there, they are well fortified."_

"How fortified?"

 _"Fortified enough that the minions would find trouble getting to the Morningstar. There is a catwalk above the floor entrance, and it's teeming with guards."_

"... I guess infiltration through the backdoor is acceptable." Carlon said, turning around and heading to the rear entrance, pushing the minions behind him aside.

As he traversed the sidewalk, minions and elite minion squad following behind him, he found two guards stationed at a lone back entrance when he rounded the corner. Carlon sneered at them mutely, but refrained from shooting at them. He knew that raising a ruckus now would invite unwanted attention. They appeared to be in some sort of argument from this distance. _"Two guardsmen? Despite how refined these Morningstar scum make themselves out to be, they are terribly prideful. Let's see if we can make that their downfall!"_

Carlon silently nodded and motioned behind himself. "Six greens, step up. Go when I say so."

Six of the most strongest green minions in Carlon's horde slithered forward. In total, Carlon had brought with him fifteen greens, ten browns, fifteen reds, and ten blues. In truth, he wanted to exercise a more covert approach. He holstered his SMGs and unsheathed his Forest Bane axe. Carlon stretched out his left hand and paused. Patiently, he waited for a lull in their conversation.

...

...

...

"Go."

The six green minions rushed out in a quickened frenzy. Before the two guards knew it, a vision of green filled their view, quickly followed by the red of their own blood. The green minions were quick and efficient, slicing at their throats and mouths first so that any attempt to cry for help was made hopeless. After that, the odorous assassins were pushing their wrist blades into soft, supple flesh with gleeful abandon.

"Nighty nighty. Let the coffin bugs bite." Said an unceremonious green minion, stabbing his wrist claws into a silenced guard's eyes.

When the guards had fallen, the overlord approached and went past the six greens, letting them enjoy the bloodshed before returning back to him.

Carlon carefully peered around another corner, near the end of the building to find a car lot with many giant wheeled platforms. Carlon guesses that truck drivers uses these things to transport goods. _What were they called? Flat beds? Something like that._

But lo and behold, more guards. They were milling about, unaware that two guards were brutally murdered recently. The overlord bit his lip in contemplation, thinking of a tactic he could use. Looking at the terrain before him, he realized that attacking one group at a time would be too costly, and would have to continue without using stealth once he or his minions were caught. Upon counting how many Morningstar there was in the car lot, he sighed, then looked at the flat beds again. A plan formed.

He turned to his minions once more. "... Alright. I need three greens and two browns to attack that group when I say so." Carlon said, pointing to a collection of guards. "I want greens rushing them first, so hang behind them, browns. Stand right there and look straight at them. Don't attack unless I say so." Carlon also said, pointing to a spot and then pointing at a patrol.

The minions growled in excitement as they did so, but kept silent during their instruction. Carlon did this five more times, though he divided his attack teams slightly differently when they would rush at a slightly higher number of guards than normal. Carlon tried to order his commands quickly and clearly to his minions, knowing that every second being distracted is a risk of being caught in the open. However, he was now ready, and was not willing to give his enemies a chance to raise the alarm.

"Go."

And by that command, his minions rushed to their targets in a hurried, but silent bloodlust. There was a few muffled screams and muted shouts of expletives among the ranks of Carlon's foes, but no gunshot broke the silence of the night. The only sounds of battle that was heard within the car lot was flesh being bludgeoned and stabbed. Carlon stepped over a bloodied body, turning once again to find, and entered, the back entrance of the warehouse.

The innards of the warehouse called Powder was slightly dim and worn, containing many crated goods that was no doubt filled with various weapons of differing caliber and destructive power. However, a bigger problem was discovered teeming inside of the warehouse. Morningstar were milling within the warehouse too, walking their patrols and occasionally inspecting a crate, box, or cargo container. What was worse was that there were people on catwalks above the floor and shelves.

 _"Don't go in there alone, master! You'll need your minions!"_ Gnarl said, sounding worried.

Carlon sighed. "It's not like I'm going to leave them behind."

 _"Look above and see what lurks on the catwalk. I remember the look of those men, clad in those gaudy uniforms, and waving around those awful weapons! Sire, they seem to be the same specialists that had taken you down during the heist of the Stilwater National Bank!"_

Looking up and finding the persons Gnarl was talking about, his eyes glowered bright before changing to a murderous red. He recognized the looks of the two men he had encountered before. Though the confrontation was brief, their red trench coats and shaven heads have awoken a deeper anger that turned into nearly contained hatred. He wasn't sure if it was specifically THESE TWO Morningstar specialists that had ruined the day of his heist on the national bank, but he was quickly warming up to the idea of some revenge. Sweet and salty revenge.

"... I need a distraction." Carlon said, turning away finally and placing his left gauntlet to his chin in thought.

"Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh~!" Mud was waving his hands up high. Apparently, he was excited about something.

Carlon sighed again. "You got something you want to say?"

"Mud and squad can make disk-rack-chuns!" Mud had said, pointing to himself and his seven other squad members.

Carlon stared at Mud and his squad for a long moment before huffing and making a lazy gesture with his left hand. "You have my permission to try and impress me." This aught to be good, though Carlon would refrain from voicing such an opinion aloud.

Mud nodded ecstatically and turned to his elite minion squad. "We has okay from mastah himself! Mud will have Bill, Blaze, Bake, Snake, Rake, Coot and Heals come with. We walk like sneaky greens, and make them think mastah not here when 'accidents' happen!"

Snake strode forward, but cocked his head and scratched at his eye patch. "You wants to sneaksy walk like us greens?"

"Yeh!" Mud replied. "That mean Snake and Rake in front of squad. We copy Snake and Rake's sneaksy walk to far side of warehouse. When there, we make 'accidents' happen. That cue for mastah to sneaks in and start bashing! Go in front, Snake. Snake and Rake help us sneak!"

With a nod, Snake pulled Rake behind himself and lead the elite minion squad on. The other minions in the squad copied the green minions mannerisms, matching their fox walk and running between the blind spots of the warehouse guards.

Carlon felt time slip by, noting that it had been only a minute and forty seven seconds before a loud crash echoed in the warehouse. The crash was cacophonous, attracting the attention of every Morningstar guard, much to Carlon's delight.

* * *

"What the hell?" A guard in the warehouse said aloud, turning to the cause of the noise. When she ran and rounded the corner, her stomach lurched as she saw a heavy crate was opened forcefully from its collision to the ground and two unfortunate people that were passing by at the time.

"Something wrong?" A Morningstar specialist that was closest to her shouted. He rushed over and peered down at her from the catwalks, adjusting his red tinted spectacles and taking in the destruction and chaos.

The female guard knelt down at the corpses and inspected them, steeling her nerves. Both of their heads were smashed open, their brainy contents spilling onto the disheveled ground, mixing with bullet magazines that was then later dampened by their blood. "Yeah. Two of our own won't be working with us any more."

"... Hmm. Antoine and Bram will be missed." The specialist said, leaning over the rail and looking down at the dead guards at the grizzly scene.

The female guard was joined with three other guards now, with their own weapons unholstered and curiously inspecting the damage from a distance. The female guard looked up to inspect where the crate once laid. It was empty, devoid of any sort of restraint that could have prevented the accident. If the heavy crate filled with ammo slid off due to the shelve being bumped into constantly, then it would be very possible that only one head would be smashed instead of two.

But even then, the warehouse would have been inspected daily, and that any shelving that has been moved out of place in the slightest would be corrected. A single death would be nothing to panic over. In fact, any accidents that happen in the warehouse were usually non-fatal, and that each accident often happens once every one or two months. But two deaths at the same time? And with the tension mounting with the appearance of the overlord? "Could someone signal the patrols on the outside of the warehouse? I need to know something." The female Morningstar guard asked.

"Why?" The specialist asked, cocking his head and eyebrow at the female guard.

"Just get a confirmation from them on their end. Request a roll call or something." The guard said, sneering.

The specialist sneered back, reaching for his radio to contact the guards outside the warehouse. "This is one of the warehouse patrols, contacting one of the outdoor patrols. Respond." After a few seconds has gone by, the Morningstar specialist's face contorted into confusion. "Uh... Outdoor patrols, please respond?" After an incredibly pregnant pause, the Morningstar specialist dropped his radio and quickly unholstered his McManus 2015 sniper rifle. "Something is amiss."

Another crash, so close to the female guard that she jumped into the air. She turned to see that the three guards that accompanied her was no longer alive, another heavy ammunition crate had been dropped onto them. She immediately looked up to find nothing on the shelve that the second dropped crate was once on. A terrible thought went through the female guard. A thought that the warehouse might be haunted. An uneasy chill went through her mind at the thought of invisible eyes looking at her with murderous intent.

"AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA~!" Cackling laughter and continuous 'shunking' sounds broke the silence. The female guard looked up in the direction of the sounds to find one small figure on top of another, even though her view was obstructed by the catwalk. But when the small figure emerged, the female guard stopped breathing as she saw a minion with fresh blood staining its crowbar and trucker's cap and wife beater T-shirt, a savage grin that stretched across its scabbed face. And when she saw its face, it looked right back at her. After three seconds, feeling like an eternity to the female guard, the minion pointed at her. "Get her!"

She immediately turned and started running as fast as she could. Despite the rushing of the wind and the beating of her heart, she could hear the patter of goblin-sized monsters running after her. After bursting through heavy doors and barricading herself from the demons that was after her using a water cooler, she held the door down using her own weight. The frantic clawing was heard on the other side of the metal door, which was slowly wearing down despite her efforts to prevent their intrusion.

She reached into her business suit to get out her short-range transceiver. But before she could sound the alarm, a heavy hand clasped onto her device. It was an armored hand, powerful and firm, which wrested her communication device out of her hands. The owner of the hand belonged to none other than the overlord. Her eyes met his, and she could see an orange glow emanating from the darkness of the shining helmet, glowing in fiery and arcane energy, yet hiding the unknown and mysterious nature of the man that commands a hellish army with the power to raze entire cities. She forgot to breathe.

* * *

A Morningstar guard lay fallen on the cold ground when Carlon had stared at her for ten seconds, after wresting the radio from her clutches. His expression was deadpan, despite his face being hidden by his helm. Gnarl decided to share his input. _"Hahahaha~! It's been a while since I saw someone pass out at the site of an overlord!"_

Carlon huffed, stepping over the bodyguard and removing the water cooler in his path.

 _"Oh? So we are not euthanizing this one in a bloody way?"_ Gnarl asked.

"She's not an obstacle anymore."

 _"And you're just going to leave her here? She might tattle on us!"_

"... Fine. I'll leave four or so greens to guard this area. If she attacks, makes a break for it, or calls for help, the green minions will deal with her." Carlon said, snapping his fingers. That had given four of the best green minions in his horde the indirect order to stay with the passed out guard. Carlon didn't have time to babysit someone who was his enemy. Besides, it's not as fun killing someone who is asleep compared to killing someone who is awake. Not only that, Carlon didn't want to waste too much time. He crushed the Morningstar goon's radio and kept going.

Thanks to the elite minion squad's efforts, they were able to create multiple distractions that divided the Morningstar guard's attention. Not only heavy objects being pushed from the shelves to drop on heads was effective, but the squad also used every diversion and misdirection possible. Using bullets as breadcrumbs to lure someone into the shadows to take them out, pouncing someone when they were alone during their patrol, expertly pick pocketing pockets and guns for their bullets and radio transceivers to prevent them from alarming the whole warehouse, and using the natural moistness of the amphibious blue minions to make the guards slip and fall on slick floors. The squad also did their best to make noise in certain areas where the Morningstar's presence was strongest. The tactic couldn't be any simpler: Turn their enemy's heads away from the assassins coming behind them.

After fighting all of the Morningstar on the ground floor, Carlon finally caught sight of a set of stairs that lead up, which could mean that it lead to the catwalks above. Carlon sighed as he gazed upwards. "So far so good." He knew that there was an office somewhere within this warehouse. Might as well be somewhere safe, being up above the ground and hard to get to.

"METAL MAN!"

Carlon immediately turned to see a hulking mass of muscle and sheer hatred heading toward him. This monster of a man carried modified armor that fitted his build, and he carried a curiously large weapon. Despite his mixed confusion, Carlon told his minions to attack the brutish thug by gesturing with his left hand, sending browns to beat down the big enemy. They rushed forward as they were sent to their target. However, a line of minions were immediately mowed down by a burst of his massive weapon. This gave Carlon pause as he saw the devastation slay part of his horde. "... SHIT!" Carlon immediately took cover as his brown minions were mowed down. There were many more brown minions that had survived the stream of bullets and attacked the minigun wielding brute, but they were knocked around by the barrel of the Brute's weapon. At least it had given Carlon enough time to redouble his efforts. Carlon remembered hearing that his minion squad had fought a brute by their own talents. Was this the same one that they mentioned?

 _"Well. so much for the stealthy and lethal approach. Do you think we should switch to the loud and violent approach?"_ Gnarl asked.

"Might as well. Blues! Defend here! Greens! Aggress!" The overlord ran from the cover he took and approached the brute that was fending off the first wave of minions. Despite the brute's best attempts of fighting off the brown minions that was surrounding him, he was too distracted to see the incoming attack that would assail him.

Carlon sent forth his green minions toward the brute's back, and they instantly latched onto him, making the brute spin around wildly and trying to grab and throw off his foes. However, the brute was too overwhelmed, the brown minions concentrated effort to distract him with pain gave the green minions the advantage to use their wrist blades to assassinate the huge bastard. The brute went down on one knee, then fell over once enough of his blood had left his body. _"Hmm... That giant of a man reminds me of the time when one of your predecessors fought a troll. Somewhat equal in strength, but being able to wield such a deadly weapon puts us at a disadvantage! How irksome."_

After waiting for a few seconds for the minions to come back from their kill, and letting his blues revive any minion that was unfortunate enough to bite the bullet, the overlord approached the huge corpse they created. "Gnarl, the minion squad battled one of these guys before, right? Did they happen to kill him?"

 _"They did, sire. I believe they used a sex doll and a parking meter to vanquish him."_

"Vanquish him dead?"

 _"Yes. VERY dead."_

Carlon paused for the minion master to catch up to Carlon's discovery.

 _"... Uh? Wait a minute. But... How?"_

Carlon kicked the body, making the brute's head face the other way. "Could be family inbreeding, but I doubt that. The likeness is very similar to the first brute I saw. Perhaps a twin brother? Or maybe the 'elite' minion squad wasn't as successful in their vanquishing of this foe?"

 _"Hmm... In any case, the best way to get rid of a troublesome enemy is to make sure that they are sufficiently a cadaver."_

"Noted." Carlon raised his axe high, then brought it down with devastating force. After the first strike to the dead body, five more followed in succession that resulted in decapitating the head and halving the skull. After that, Carlon then made a hasty approach to the stairs and went onto the catwalks. Since the brute's minigun proved to be too dangerous to be in anyone's hands, especially in the brute's own, he might as well bank on the assumption that that brute was the only one capable of wielding it. However, Carlon had to act quick. The minigun that fired earlier would certainly draw attention.

The catwalks was mostly abandoned, thanks to the effective teamwork of the elite minion squad. However, as Carlon came upon one of the corpses that belonged to the Morningstar, he noticed that it was one of the specialists. After taking the sniper rifle the dead specialist once wielded, Carlon continued on his mission.

Gnarl grumbled immediately after his master pilfered a weapon from the Morningstar guard. _"Sire, must you really equip arms that was previously owned? We have a perfectly functional forge down here!"_

"True, but I need to extend my fighting ability. Once I visit a gun shop, I can upgrade it to make it my own. And uh... Gnarl? Giblet is not a gunsmith." Carlon said, holstering the weapon and proceeding.

 _"... Fair enough."_ Gnarl grumbled again. _"It just doesn't seem like an overlordly thing to do. Hand-me-down weapons should only be obtained and used by the minions, after all!"_

Carlon would, again, agree with Gnarl. As he trudged through the bodies, his minions idly picking up any lifeforce, cash, and ammo for their master, or gear for themselves, Carlon found a cubic room that was connected to the roof, accessible via the catwalks.

* * *

The room inside, from the view of the only window into the room, looked to be in the shape of an office. The elite minion squad seemed to have beaten Carlon to the room first, as they perused into its contents to find valuables, which could only mean that they have done their job in ridding all of the Morningstar guards in the warehouse. After slowly sweeping his minions inside the managers office, Carlon himself stepped in. "Hmm... Phil isn't here."

"Oh hey, a computer. Maybe there is some files on it we can use?" A blue within the minion squad said. He was immediately struck in the cranium by his leader.

"No stupid smart talkings, Coot!" Mud warned.

Carlon looked at the two and their exchange, pausing. It was nothing more but inane chatter anyway. That is until Gnarl took his turn to talk. _"Actually, this might give us an insight on the inner workings of The Syndicate groups and Morningstar! Sire! Do you think you can peruse into their computerizing machine and get whatever wealth of information we can use?"_

"I don't see why not. ... But uh... I don't know how to hack a computer." Carlon said, going to the machine and turning it on. A password prompt came up. Carlon knew that he was at a disadvantage when it comes to technologically invading someone's hard drive. Carlon never really watched any tech-savvy movies during his stay in this dimension. Well... Apart from that Matrix one, but he stopped watching when that Mr. Anderson character turned out to be some type of virtual reality altering 'chosen one', and displayed his power by making Mr. Smith explode into green digitized chunks.

"Uh... Maybe I can take a crack at it?" A blue minion by the name of Coot said. Mud looked at Coot in a menacing manner.

Mud was about to bonk Coot again when Carlon got up and approached the both of them. Mud was then pushed away by Carlon, who was now looking down on Coot. "You think you can gain access into that computer?"

Coot shrugged his shoulders. "I could try. It doesn't exactly seem like the hardest thing to do."

Carlon groaned. Distant voices was heard from within the warehouse however, signalling the Morningstar that was coming inside to investigate the recent cacophonous racket Carlon caused with the brute earlier. It was then that the overlord decided that the situation couldn't get any worse. They could either torch the warehouse if Coot is not successful in hacking the computer, or gain a new business if Coot manages to pull through. Carlon finally made up his mind and growled his response. "Do it. But if there's a chance you can't hack that computer, I'm going to find someone that can. Elite minion squad! Stay with Coot!" Carlon then stomped his way to the catwalks, where he was beset by gunfire the moment he stepped out the door, his horde following after him.

Coot stared in awe as his master gave him permission to hack into the computer. Mud, on the other hand, struck the blunt side of his baton on Coot's head. "WHAT COOT DOING? Coot should not gawk. Coot go and do hack stuff on com-poot-er!"

Rake scratched his head as a thought went into it. "Should Coot get choppy axe for hackings? Axes can hack stuff very good."

Mud drubbed Rake for his outburst. "No, Rake. Different kind of hacking. It more like going into com-poot-er brains."

"Com-poot-er has brains?" Heals shouted, coming up to the machine and poking at the screen.

"Can someone get Heals away from the computer? I need space to figure this out." Coot complained, clacking his nails onto the keyboard and moving the mouse around.

Heals was drubbed and chased away by Mud. Heals grunted and squealed from each blow. Mud turned to Coot and growled. "Mud is goings to talk to Coot after mission. Coot knows Coot never speaks unless Mud allows."

Coot sighed, but continued trying to figure out how to get into the computer. Everything was now riding on him, and the pressure mounted onto him by such a large margin that it was difficult for him to focus and think. Between the loud gunshots and the overlord defending the manager's office, the tension was incredibly thick.

However, he typed in 'guest' as the password and somehow got in. However, he couldn't find the information that he or his master needed, like an important folder on the desktop. At least he was able to go on the social media site of the last person who forgot to log out of their profile, and Coot was able to find out a plethora of information that way.

"Well? What did Coot find?" Mud asked, agitated.

Coot widened his eyes as he found additional information. "I think I found out that there are several strongholds that these Morningstar people are stationed in."

"Coot thinks? Pfah!" Mud said, kicking a file cabinet and knocking it over. "Minions don't think. They fight by mastah's commands."

 _"Mud."_ Gnarl said, in a warning tone. _"If you are uncomfortable with the squad's composition, then I will make changes to it so that you will be more efficient in the future. And if you keep being disruptive to your fellow minions abilities, then I have no choice but to bring this matter to the overlord. Have I made myself clear?"_

Mud growled again, kicking the file cabinet yet again. "Runny nose clear."

 _"Then cease bickering and let Coot do his task."_

A few minutes later, Coot acquired massive amounts of vital information that he put to pen and paper, writing down important details and weaknesses in legible handwriting. The shootout between Morningstar and the overlord had stopped a while ago, giving Coot a brief pause to look at the window out of the room before continuing with his work. "Gnarl, has our master slayed all the guards?"

 _"Several, Coot, both in body and in mind. He has used his evil presence spell on several Morningstar guards. Hopefully, one of them can divulge some private information that we can exploit!"_

Coot nodded as he went through the conversations on the social media website. The conversations between the person he is logged in on and the people the person talked to was incredibly droll, but searching for information like this was incredibly labored and slow. But when time had passed, Coot saw Carlon coming back to the manager's office with slightly less minions and many enslaved Morningstar guards in tow. "My lord, you are back!"

"Find anything?" Carlon asked Coot, strolling into the office room with his horde and cadre of enslaved Morningstar.

Coot tacked away on the keyboard once again."Social media website and his conversations with other Morningstar members on a guest account. I was unable to enter into the main profile on this computer, I'm afraid. I apologize, my lord, I was unable to hack into the computer."

Carlon breathed in slowly before sighing. "Off the chair. Report your findings with Gnarl." He then turned to the Morningstar he 'enchanted' with his evil presence spell. "Anyone here knows how to hack into a computer?" Three out of fifteen raised their hands. "You three, over here. Hack into that computer. The rest of you, jump off the catwalk and land on your heads."

The three Morningstar guards that raised their hands went to the computer to start hacking it. The twelve that were not qualified simply left the room and took a dive, breaking their necks upon the cold, hard, ground. Coot took the time to sigh. At least he was thankful for being useful to his master. Such is the fate of a minion.

* * *

 **A/N: Man, I forgot that I was making this. So sorry. 'w';;;  
**


	12. The Problem with January

**Chapter 12: The Problem with January  
**

* * *

Brickston apartments. A place in Stanfield that can welcome many low income individuals with a place to stay. But in recent times, its purposes have been vastly changed. Especially when the overlord had came to Steelport city and acquired this apartment as his first forward base. His devoted and skillfully talented elite minion squad managed to take over the entire building, and subdued the tenants inside. The people within the building were mostly squatters. But they, and the tenants, were swayed by the kind and gentle persuasion that is Carlon's painful mind raping magic, also known as the evil presence spell.

After their enslavement, they went ahead and got jobs within the city of steelport, but their property and their furniture was taken by the minions, each being left with nothing but an alarm clock, a bed, a landline phone, and a bowl to eat whatever gruel the minions deemed fit for them to consume. Showers were optional. Access to the internet was strictly limited to contacting businesses for business information. The living conditions for the enslaved in the Brickston apartment was designed to be minimalist, expending as little water and electricity as possible so that the water and electricity bill is easily reduced, helping to line the overlord's pockets with extra cash with the bi-monthly rent checks from the tenants.

Despite the significantly-less-than-optimal living conditions, it was netting Carlon some additional money that he could use to trade for precious metals, stones, and other resources. Despite his impact on the gold trade, Carlon tried to gain any kind of treasure that he could buy or steal. Despite money having its uses, such as being exchanged for goods and services, having valuable treasures has a more practical use for Carlon's evil reign. What the minions do with the treasure he exchanges for whatever project or upgrade he chooses is a mystery to him. In fact, he'd rather not ask about it. So long as the system of control isn't broken, it doesn't need to be fixed! But it does help tremendously to know a few tricks on how to work such a system.

Carlon paced back and forth in front of his throne in his armor, contemplating on the next step of his plan to overtake the Syndicate, the constant thorn to his side since the day he was captured and taken to this city. Even though the netherworld tower is stationed underneath Stilwater, Steelport has been his main focus. Namely, he was thinking about the brute he fought against yesterday. The strength of that protein infused neanderthal had given Carlon a lot to think about. Between the elite minion squad saying that they allegedly killed a brute on their own, and that Carlon had killed a brute with his horde, it still gave him an uneasy feeling. A deep gut feeling that didn't sit well at the bottom of his stomach.

The overlord's phantom indigestion aside, Gnarl hobbled up to his master after visiting the netherworld's forge, bringing with him Giblet and his assistant. A fourth minion that was from the brown minion tribe came from the minion burrows. "Greetings, my lord. Is there something that is troubling you?" Gnarl bowed and said.

Carlon stopped his pacing, paused and sighed. "I'm starting to think we might not be strong enough to fight The Syndicate with our current power."

"Is that doubt I hear? Sire! Pardon me for saying this, but this misuse of time you are taking to worry about your enemy is an absolute waste!"

The overlord growled and approached Gnarl. "I have been trying to figure out the best way to employ a strategic attack against our enemies, and you call it doubt?"

Gnarl backed away and bowed even lower, his back almost giving out. "I apologize for angering you, sire. But do bear in mind that a pus filled zit by any other name still leaks when poked at."

Carlon growled again, but decided not to kick Gnarl down and give him a painful beating. The minion master was right. Carlon was doubting his abilities and power based on the thought that there might be more than one brute in the world. Even though he hasn't seen the brute that the elite minion squad vanquished, minions never had the propensity to lie. Carlon turned, sighing as he did so, and sat upon his obsidian throne. What he was most worried about is meeting more than one brute in a future confrontation. If The Syndicate could amass an army of those ham hocks, and sent them against him, the battle would be greatly one-sided. True, he could use his evil presence spell to turn a brute into one of his many slaves, but magical enslavement takes time proportional to the amount of health and willpower that the victim haves. Judging from how much much time it took him to kill the brute at the warehouse, it would take several minutes of constant evil presence casting to convert one to his ranks. Of course, he could weaken a brute to half health and THEN use his spell, provided that the minions didn't kill it in time.

It was then that Carlon relaxed enough that he noticed the company Gnarl brought with him. "... I'm guessing you brought 'them' with you for something?" he said, gesturing to Gnarl's company.

"Oh, but of course!" Gnarl said excitedly. He hobbled a little to the side and turned to the minions he brought with him. "Giblet has been developing an experimental type of fabric that can be warn underneath a minion's normal protective gear."

Giblet and a... red headed minion? ... came forth, both holding up a small tunic from the shoulder part of the clothing. It looked to be a drab cloth, though it had faint glittering light underneath the fabric from what Carlon could tell. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but he allowed them to proceed with their presentation.

Gnarl smiled a toothy smile as he hobbled back in front of Carlon. "You see, sire, Giblet was inspired to make this special type of apparel after witnessing Bill sewing body armor from swat officers onto his truck. It gave him the idea to create several prototypes. The latest prototype eventuated into what you see now. Master, this body armor is made with several thin layers of iron, durium, and arcanium chain mail. The chain mail layers is then woven together with spider silk, which, with a little enchanting, is discovered to be slightly stronger than the modern bullet resistant fabric known as Kevlar. We ended up using enslaved seamstresses to weave this spider silk onto the chain mail layers, which eventuated into the prototype you see before you. After some testing with our latest body armor, we can confirm that it has incredible qualities in boosting durability."

"By how much?" Carlon asked.

"More than double on any other minion that is not a brown! But for regular browns, it simply increases their durability by a simple twofold."

Carlon nodded and placed his hand on his chin in thought. "Impressive... but I'm curious about its caveats. How expensive is it to make more of this body armor?"

"Well, er..." Gnarl said aloud, picking through his black and red robes to fish out a piece of paper.

Gnarl had handed the piece of paper to his master, prompting Carlon to inspect it. After a perusal, Carlon made an audible sigh and shook his head. "Oh... Fffffffucking dammit." After reading the cost for a single set of this minion body armor, it would take five times his entire treasury to have every single minion wear this protective undergarment. Impressive as that is, it would leave Carlon incredibly bankrupt to just use all of his treasure to create as many body armors he wanted. Notwithstanding the fact that Carlon can make more money by literally doing nothing and letting his slave labor work for him, other resources were becoming more rare within the world. What would be necessary for the production of the body armor would be detrimental to his resources. The minion burrows can hold a total population of a hundred thousand active minions, but the minion hives themselves can supposedly store an infinite amount of lifeforce, ceasing to gestate more of Carlon's loyal servants in case the netherworld's population is at its maximum. And the overlord collected a vast supply of lifeforce in the years he ruled Stilwater, thanks to the governments bribing of specific animals and funding to keep Stilwater's citizens safe.

"I know that the cost for this armor is not exactly cheap, my lord. In which case, we are still prepared to make as many as you demand." Gnarl said.

Carlon thought about this decision for a brief time. After mulling it over in his head, he wanted to ask a few questions before making his final decision. "Is the body armor easily recoverable from dead minions? I don't want my treasury to dwindle when one of my minions dies or goes missing, forcing me to make minion body armor replacements and needlessly expend resources. Judging from the price tag on one of these under-armors, I'll have to be frugal in my spending."

Giblet decided to voice his opinion. "Yes yes! Giblet can make changes easily! Have seamstresses make zippers, buttons and hooks for body armors!"

"Well thank evilness for that. Means I don't need to prick my fingers with a sewing needle anymore." The red haired minion said aloud.

Carlon saw the red headed minion and paused for a long time. Gnarl saw his expression and cocked his head in confusion. "... Uh. Master, is there something on your mind?" Gnarl asked.

"... Is that a female minion?" Carlon said, pointing to Giblet's assistant.

The assistant blushed and looked away, but returned her gaze to her master. "Y-yes. I'm working as Giblet's assistant."

Gnarl rolled his eyes. "You must pardon our blacksmith in training, my lord. Ricket is fairly new in her role. And yes, she is a female, so there is no need to look under her apron. Believe me, an unfortunate minion tried that and got a head wound out of it! However, we are getting off track!" Gnarl said loudly, changing the subject entirely. "Sire. About the body armor. What is your decision on its manufacture?"

Carlon settled into his throne and pondered further. After a long and agonizing wait, Carlon got up from his throne and finally made up his mind. "Have fifty sets of this minion body armor made ready at all times, and only let them be worn by the browns in my horde unless I say otherwise. Also, have this body armor be worn by all the minions in the elite minion squad as well. That is my decision."

"An excellent command, master. Giblet will be busy making the thin metal chain mail layers, while I shall infer with Ricket about the procurement and production of the spider silk. I believe she will have need of a workforce of several enslaved seamstresses for weaving this web of ours." Gnarl said, siding with Ricket.

"Oh this will be great, Mr. Gnarl! But I'm not too keen on dealing with those spiders again."

"Suck it up, Ricket. Besides, you could always ask a green to help wrangle the spiders."

"Even so, I can't wait to get started on some new armor! Especially if it can double the durability for all the minions down here! ... Well, technically some of them."

And with that, Gnarl and Ricket went off to the minion burrows, possibly to find a means to retain more spider silk. Giblet, on the other hand, decided to give the fourth minion in their group the body armor he made and began leaving Carlon's presence. "Giblet get started on thin chain mails. See you again, mastah!"

Carlon huffed, sitting back onto his throne and feeling much better after that conversation. With these minions with the special armor part of their gear, Carlon would become indefinitely stronger with his horde. However, he would have to wait for these body armors to be made and then distributed to his brown minion hordes and elite minion squad. In fact, he forgot to ask Gnarl how long it would take to create such armors. But he remembered from Gnarl's conversation with the female minion named Ricket that they would find a way to mass produce one of the components of this minion body armor. Giblet on the other hand will have his hands occupied creating the thin chain mail layers, though Carlon wasn't sure if Giblet would get a workforce to mass produce what he needed. ... In any case, Carlon would have to practice using his patience and let time gestate the results.

"Mastah? I has thing to tell you. Coot want I to tell you thing." The fourth minion finally spoken after donning the body armor under his regular armor, wearing a bent hubcap for a hat and what used to be a curtain to some house as a toga. This minion's weapon of choice was a machete that had razors and barbershop blades welded on the blunt back edge.

Carlon grumbled, wanting to relax and watch television after finally mulling over a strategy regarding the Morningstar Brutes. "Speak then. I don't have much patience to spare."

The minion nodded. "Coot said to I that mastah needs know that Brickston apartment has nosy intruder, and Coot wants mastah there for dealing with nosy intruder." The minion with the hubcap hat paused for an uncomfortable seven seconds before saying something again. "... Okay, thing has been told to mastah! I goes now. Bye byes!" And with that, the minion left for the minion burrows, proud with the task he has done for today.

Carlon sighed. Converting the tenants of that building was a waste of time, but proved to be necessary to keep his presence as discreet as possible. Despite the number of enslaved citizens in Steelport steadily rising, Carlon would do well to prevent himself from getting too much attention from the authorities, or the military, on this matter. After all, the crackling energy eyes that the enslaved exhibited was a dead giveaway for an overlord's presence. Well... Aside from the sightings of minions causing carnage in the city streets. There will be an increase of sales for sunglasses in this city in the future.

* * *

Coot, with the help of the previous Brickston apartment manager, was sifting through the tenants rent checks and bills. Thankfully, with the previous apartment manager's help with understanding how utility billing works, Coot would learn the ins and outs of apartment management. The average minion would not understand the finer points of running a business, and would no sooner start mauling something close by the moment they become aggravated. Or bored. Most minions always had difficulty learning. Coot, on the other hand, was actually very patient. Learning wasn't something that was stupid, from what he understands. It was a chore. So long as Coot learned something new every day, he figures that he could solve most problems without breaking something. Even though breaking something is something a minion would totally do.

But this was so goddamn boring. Coot would rather be breaking and killing things than hear the previous landlord drone on about how to manage an apartment.

"And then we send our own bills through the mail to the departments of energy and waste management, which helps keep our apartment from going into foreclosure. If it wasn't for your help, I think I would have lost a place to live and start living the life of poverty." Said the previous landlord. Coot didn't care to remember this person's name. Once the overlord's evil presence spell took a hold of you, there is no going back. All the enslaved, perhaps including the watchers, might as well forget their past names and adopt the use of serial numbers.

Coot sighed. By the depths of the chaotic abysses that exist or don't exist yet, Coot would love some sort of distraction. Coot remembered a quote that the humans made as this human's droning was starting to annoy him. What was it? Something about ignorance is bliss? Or something about having lots of cunning, the more burdened you become?

There was a knock on the door.

"Get that, slave." Coot languidly motioned to the previous landlord, too focused on the desk computer and using the internet. He was too bothered to learn the many nuances about how Steelport manages its wealth. Despite the netherworld tower being upgraded to have landline access to the world wide web, the connection there was choppy. In fact, the internet down there had been made out-of-service multiple times due to a rat or two gnawing at Ethernet cables. Up on the surface world, Coot would actually have all the time he is allowed to look up what he needed and wanted.

"Oh! Fred! It's so good to see you! I'm very glad that you're okay!"

Coot froze.

His heart skipped a beat.

His breathing stopped.

He sweated profusely.

... Well, blues tend to 'sweat' a lot since they were amphibious anyway.

But for all intents and purposes, Coot was startled by a bubbly and upbeat voice he faintly recognized. He sat up straight and slowly leaned to his right, peering behind the computer monitor to find the source of the new voice.

It was a woman with bright hazel colored glasses covering her eyes and black long hair that was frosted white at the tips, wearing a pink hairband and what looked like a pink and white go-go dancer outfit, with platform shoes, a short skirt, and a tube top to match her color ensemble. She was hugging the landlord, that Coot had relearned that the name he had was Fred. When she pulled away from the hug, her eyes widened greatly when she got a better look at her friend. "... What? Fred, what happened to your eyes?"

Coot slowly returned to his seat and retracted his clammy claws from the mouse and keyboard. He quietly thanked evilness to himself for his minionly shortness. However, his heart raced even more when he realized that Fred wasn't wearing his sunglasses. The enslaved, and the watchers, were required to wear sunglasses for a reason; to hide their eyes.

"It was a new procedure that I could afford. Do you like it?" Fred droned.

Coot sighed. Even though minions lacked the skill of lying, either because they were too stupid or had no need to, at least they could use the enslaved to lie for them.

"Well... It looks kind of cool, I have to admit. But, like, what happened? I tried to call you several times! The answering machine isn't even registering my calls!" The woman said, with a pout in her face.

"I'm sorry. The answering machine kinda fritzed, so I dismantled it. I'm planning on getting a new one, babe."

"Don't babe me. You had me really worried. I mean... Did the police really come over? I checked the police precinct in Ashwood, but they said that they didn't made any arrests near your apartment on that day. ... Say, do you know someone by the name of Coot?"

"Crap!" Coot said silently in a gasp, then held his mouth closed with both of his claws. Even though this bubbly voiced female didn't seem like it, she was very sharp.

"Coot happens to be a financial advisor that I'm getting help from. I didn't want to tell you that this apartment was in a lot of debt. But more importantly, it wasn't the police that was raiding the apartment. It was actually The Syndicate that raided the apartment."

"Phew." Coot quietly exclaimed.

The woman pouted again. "Syndicate? You mean one of the gangs? Which one?"

"The Luchadores."

"Don't they deal with steroids? Why would they concern themselves with a meth lab? And I thought this area was Deckers turf?"

"Listen, babe, I didn't have much sleep last night and I can't recall every detail to you from the top of my head. Anyway, I'm busy with sorting through my debt and I need to concentrate."

The woman giggled. "Who are you and what did you do to my Freddy~? I know for a FACT that you are not the kind of person to lose sleep over debt. Let me check your paperwork." Steps from high platform heels echoed in the room as the woman came to the desk, sat in the chair and reviewed the paperwork that was on the desk. "Ew, gross! Why does the mouse and keyboard feel so wet?"

"My hands get sweaty sometimes." Fred answered from where he stood next to the door that the woman entered.

"Ugh, keep that to yourself." She leaned forward and shifted paper around. "... Hm... Wow. I didn't know you had this many more tenants in the apartment. Looks like people really want to live here. And even after that Luchadore raid too!"

Coot couldn't believe his luck. The woman didn't expect anything! She was completely oblivious to the fact that the Brickston apartment was actually under the overlord's control. She could peer into the paperwork relating into debt or taxes all she wants, but the funding that was used to pay off the foreclosure was not from Fred's pocket. Not that she would EVER find that out, Coot was hoping.

Still, it didn't help Coot's situation, since he had to move to a hidden location the moment that the female human strode into the room and took his place on the computer desk chair. Coot was regretting his choice of hiding places, since his decision to simply hide under the desk and wait for the woman to leave and let Fred smooth things over was his to blame.

Now, he was staring up the skirt of the go-go dancer, holding his breath with all the willpower that he could muster. Even though he could openly admit that the view he is seeing was phenomenally spectacular, one wrong move or one errant breath and everything would fall out place and into chaos. Even though chaos was a good thing for minions, Coot knew that it was the bad sort of chaos that would attract too much attention. And attention was something that the overlord didn't need.

"... Wow. So you _have_ been busy with paperwork all this time? I guess the Luchadores scared you straight or something." The woman said.

"After the raid, it has been a real eye opener." Fred said.

"But I have to ask. Where on Earth did you get the eye surgery to make it crackle and glow like that? It can't be from any Image As Designed surgeon office I know of, otherwise I would get junk-mail and catalogues about the new plastic surgery options within a week. Don't get me wrong, I think it looks cool on you. But I could swear that I have seen that somewhere before..."

"Coot, why is you hiding under com-poot-er table?" A new voice said, throwing all semblance of stealth, tact, and subtlety out of the window.

The woman looked up and gasped at the sight of a short, blue skinned fish-man standing in the doorway into the room. She gave the blue minion a frightened stare before she spoke again. "... Wh... What are-?"

Coot happened to recognized the new voice. "Heals. Sound the alarm." He calmly said, sounding dejected.

"Why?" Heals asked absentmindedly. The girl's eyes widened again, looking down at her legs.

"Sound the alarm, and I'll give you twenty dried slugs." It was at this moment that the woman slowly scooted back, parted her legs, and saw a blue skinned minion under the desk she was seated at.

"ALARM! ALARM! ALARM!" And it was when Heals shouted the alarm to the denizens of the apartment that the woman started shrieking and kicking at Coot below the computer desk. She scrambled away, putting her back to the wall and bumping over several stacked boxes filled with paper and files.

Coot, on the other hand, was groaning and nursing a bruised face, blood seeping down his chin from a split lip and lying on an overturned desk. "Slave, don't let her get past you!" Immediately after saying that, Coot rushed toward the only other exit out of the room, which was the windows.

The pink and white dressed woman shimmied quickly along the wall, moving away from Coot and Fred as humanly as possible. The woman's voice trembled as she spoke. "W-w-w-w-what?!"

"Lady, be calm." Coot said sternly and firm, brandishing a file box filled with papers. The file box was possibly for protection against the go-go dancer woman. "The sooner you quiet your struggle, the less pain there will be for all of us."

That got the woman's mind to think clearly on what was happening, which prompted her to make a break for the exit that Fred was guarding. Fred, however, was fast to prevent her attempt to abscond, using his own body to deter her. Fred's body was very frail, however, and did little to withstand the more athletic build of a go-go dancer. "Let me through!" She exclaimed, trying to shove past a person she once knew.

"Hold her down!" Coot exclaimed, rushing forward and throwing the file box at the woman in an attempt to prevent her escape. It did little, but the file box distracted her long enough for Fred to knock the woman off balance and pin her. When Fred was on top of the woman, it gave Coot the window of opportunity he needed. He opened the door that lead into the apartment's hallway and saw a gaggle of minions making their way up from the basement, following Heals' shouting. "In here!" Coot waved to the security of the apartment. "There's a human that's causing trouble! In here! Restrain her!"

Despite the go-go dancer's stronger build being able to eventually escape Fred's hold on her, she was too late as a horde of minions surrounded her and firmly grasped her arms and legs. "NOOO-Mmmf!" She was quickly gagged with a piece of smelly cloth shoved in her mouth. They all leered at her with their intense yellow eyes, each face and large ear scabbed over and grotesque looking. Though they were diminutive in size, roughly half the height of the average man, they were as strong as one.

One of the bigger minions that had a hold of her legs looked over to the intelligent blue minion. "Oi. What we do with this girly humie? Throw her in the lava?"

The woman stared wide-eyed at one of their suggestions on what to do with her. Coot shakes his head to the suggestion. "No. Grah, what would Mud do in this situation?" He said, furiously clawing his scalp and was dangerously close to puncturing his own smooth, soft skin. He was obviously panicking.

"Mud not here though." "Yeh yeh, he gone with Bill for, um... What did Mud and Bill go away for again?" "They took some enslaved worshipers with them for 'in-sure-ants' fraud." "That when car hits you, and you get money for it?" "No no, you don't get money for it. It not meant for minions." "What?" "Yeh. I heard that only humans gets this 'in-sure-ants' thing. Them humans not make laws for minions to getting 'in-sure-ants'." "That stupid! Why not we gets monies for getting hits by cars?!" "But if car not hittings you and is still, you can go in car and get all monies hidden in it." "There are monies in cars? Maybe when I with mastah, I can go take a looksy in cars?"

"Shut up." Coot said aloud, frustrated. "Let me think... ... ... ... ... Okay. I clearly don't know what to do, so I might need our master's help on this. You." Coot pointed to one of the minions. "I need you to go to the master and relay a message."

One of such minions, which was wearing a bent hubcap for a hat and what used to be a curtain to some house as a toga, and wielding a machete that had razors and barbershop blades welded on the blunt back edge, stopped groping the go-go dancer and approached Coot. "You needs I?"

"Yes." Coot explained. "Tell the master we have an intruder that needs to be dealt with in the Brickston apartments. We need him to deal with her."

"Ah, okay!" The minion excitedly nodded. The minion then left in a scramble, leaving Fred, the minion guards, Coot, and Heals to deal with their new 'guest'.

The woman was silent up until this point, and has spat out the filthy rag in her mouth to finally decide to communicate with these minions. "Wh-ack! What are you going to do to me?"

Coot turned and looked down at the woman. He stared at her for around five seconds before answering. "That remains to be seen. You have seen too much, so we will keep you here until our dark lord decides otherwise."

"D-d-dark lord? You mean that guy that looks like Sauron?" the woman asked quietly with high pitched timidity.

Coot cocked his head. "Sauron?"

"Is it that guy in that Lord of Rings movie?" "Oh yeh, that one. I only saw, like, the first one. It focuses on halflings though." "Halflings? Why are halflings doing in movie?" "It are not real halflings. Just actor people made to look very small." "But what is a Sauron?" "Sauron is like mastah, but in Lord of Rings movie, but not really. I thinks Sauron is a big eye tower or something? I no pay attention to movie plot or story, so I dunno. But I like the parts where there are goblins and orcs though!" "Movie has goblins and orcs? I think I wants watch it. But does it have happy ending? I hate those." "Third sequel is out. I only watched first and second. It not very good. Focuses on heroes. Not enough killy and stabs I thinks. Second movie has lots more killy, but mostly focuses on orcs dying." "I pass on those movies then." "Well I wants to watch them!"

Coot rolled his eyes and went to the computer desk, letting the minions talk about the movie franchise. After seating himself, he decided to search for whatever this 'Sauron' character was. What he found surprised him. Apparently, the human imagination had somehow went to a dark place, and concocted the metal costume that he was seeing. However, Coot wasn't impressed by the design. Sure, it was very spiky and almost gothic looking, but it lacked one key feature that made a lord of darkness a lord of darkness. The glowing eyes. Did the minion guard said something about this Sauron being an eye tower or something? Coot checked the web search again and was surprised yet again. Apparently, this tower is also him? It was definitely more imposing, but wouldn't be especially useful for an overlord to be transformed into a tower, as it would fix him into a single position. If the glowing eye tower's 'eye' was used with the armor design in its eyes, then Sauron's appearance would be much more imposing. At least, that is what Coot thought.

Coot pushed away from the desk and hopped off of his seat, deciding that his findings were not of any worth or interest. He came back to the minions that was pawing and holding the dancer down, still talking about the movie that the Sauron character was from. "Movie or not," Coot finally said, changing the subject of the conversation. "Our master is going to be here soon. Since Mud is not here, and minion master Gnarl is busy with his armor project, I'll have to take command of you lot for the moment."

"You be commandings us? HEH! You is not Gnarl OR Mud!" One of the minions proclaimed.

"True. But our master would want us to contact him if someone trespassed into our forward base."

"Hmm. True, true." "Yeh, mastah would like that." "Rurg." The minion guards said in agreeance.

"What is he going to do?" The contained woman said. "Oh god, what is he going to do to me?"

Telltale metal steps resounded from a distance away, originating from the basement of the apartment complex. The sound of the stomping grew closer and closer till the identity of the noise maker was discovered. Upon entering the room that Coot, Heals, Fred, the minion guards holding down the go-go dancer resided in, the identity of the one making the heavy metallic footfalls was revealed to be the overlord of Stilwater, Carlon. He growled as he entered the room. "... Coot? You better have a good reason to summon me here. Gnarl is not going to be happy with you going over his head like this."

"I had to make sure that our 'uninvited guest' here was monitored." Coot replied. "Mud was unavailable, and Gnarl was busy with a project."

Carlon turned to the handled woman and gazed disapprovingly down at her. The go-go dancer squirmed under his gaze for a moment before becoming still. Carlon turned to Coot and harrumphed. "And I thought it was one of the Morningstar or Decker assholes."

"Sadly, we are not so lucky, sire." Coot said, shaking his head. "... So uh... You have a plan with her?"

The woman squirmed again when the overlord came to her. "What is one more slave?" He said, raising his left hand over the woman.

"Can uh... Can I not be one if I promise not to tell anyone?" The woman said.

The overlord lowered his left gauntlet heavy hand. "Promise?" He said. Carlon didn't say it as a question, but in way one would repeat what someone else had said to confirm them.

The woman nodded. "Yeah! If you let me live, then I promise not to tell the police about you guys here. Please? I can be so quiet, I wont even make a peep. Let me live, and snitching would be the last thing I will ever do!"

Carlon huffed and thought about her request. "... What is your name, miss?"

"January."

"Why did you come here?"

"I came to check up on my friend."

Carlon turned to look at an enslaved human. "Are you her friend?"

"Yes, master." Fred droned.

Carlon nodded, turned to January and chuckled. "Hehe, promising me something holds no merit to me." Carlon then turned to Coot. "You said that you are learning how to be a manager of this apartment complex? Is this guy the previous manager?"

"Yes, sire." Coot obediently answered.

"Have you learned everything you needed from him?"

"Well... I would have liked him to repeat everything a few more times before I got the hang of being an apartment landlord."

"Good enough!" Carlon replied, bringing out one of his Kobra pistols and attaching a silencer to the muzzle of the deadly gun. He approached January, circled her to where he could be above her head, and rested on a knee. "Slave. Stand in front of us."

"What are you doing?" January questioned as panic filled her voice. "I said I promised not to tell anyone!" She flinched as a gun entered her view.

"Promising something to me holds no value. Promises are just words. And you can break your word just as easily as anyone else can. Heroes and villains alike. And that is why I am doing this."

January closed her eyes and waited for the doom that would make her life void. She counted each second that seemed like an eternity repeating itself, and she longed for this new kind of torment to end quickly. A cold pressure had planted itself onto her chest and she squeaked at the sensation. The sudden realization dawned on her that her whole life was going to change forever. Almost a minute passed before she opened her eyes to find a gun positioned within her cleavage. "... Uh?"

"Take your right arm and aim the gun at your friend." Carlon growled, with a hint of a smile in his voice.

"Wh... WHAT?" January exclaimed, looking up wildly at the overlord.

"Use my sidearm. Prove the worth of your promise to me." Carlon leaned forward, sinisterly glaring at her while speaking in achromous and clear detail. His eyes brightened to a fiery yellow that felt as though he could burn right through her skull. "If you shoot at anything else, like me or my minions, or even refuse to fire my gun at him, I will kill you. But if you can sever the tie and prove your worth, then consider this a privilege that I, the overlord of Stilwater, will grant you mercy through this test of mine."

A single gesture from the overlord promoted the minions holding January's right arm to slacken their hold. She slowly reached for the pistol nestled within her bosom to pick up and inspect it. The weapon was heavy in her hand. Thirty-some seconds had passed as she shifted her gaze between Fred and the KA-1 Kobra. After a long, pregnant pause, January finally spoke again. "If I shoot him, you'll spare me?"

Carlon huffed. "If you shoot him, I'll reconsider the weight of your promise. Choose now."

Time stretched to another twenty-some seconds before January made her decision. She shakily raised her right arm, aiming the laser sight onto Fred's face, it's light slightly blinding him, though he didn't feel the need to blink. Hesitation stayed January's hand, but a deep breath steadied her hand. Followed after her breath, she spoke in a calm tone. "Fred. I don't know what happened to you. But if you are in there still, I want you to know that I am sorry for doing this. Know that I love you, and I know that you will forgive me for doing this, because I know that you love me too. I am sorry."

*click*

January sighed loudly and became unusually limp in the hold of the minions still grabbing her. Carlon, on the other hand, blinked. "Hmm. I forgot to load it."

January threw the pistol across the room. "And the news said you were an evil bastard. I guess they were right."

"Don't insult me." Carlon said, going to the pistol that January had thrown to pick it back up. "It's not wise to rescind the gift of mercy. Especially if it was from someone that can cleave you into pieces, and feed whatever is left to beasts."

January slapped a stray hand that creeped up upon her left breast, but it resulted in her right arm being restrained again. Coot, on the other hand, decided to voice his opinion. "My lord, what are we to do with her?"

"Not we. You." Carlon growled, feeding the gun a new magazine.

"Wait, what?" Coot exclaimed, turning quickly and jostling the tassel of his hat wildly.

"You didn't notify Gnarl, or Mud. Therefore, this wench shall be your responsibility. You will look after her, and make sure she doesn't break her promise. If she does, I'll hold you and your squad accountable."

Coot felt as though he was going to fume. ... However, mulling it over his head, Coot deemed the command by his master as a fair punishment.

"We get pretty lady to stay with us? Ooh~!" Heals perversely said as he came up to January.

"Coot, you're going to help me watch over her. This is about as much as my fault as yours is!" Coot snarled.

Heals backed away from his teammate in the squad. "Uh... Calm down, Coot. This good thing! We get one of them ladies that dances in those clubs! This good thing!"

"Wait until Mud hears about this. If this means I get bludgeoned for contacting our master, then I'm taking you with me for revealing my hiding place!" Coot shouted, making a dash toward Heals and throttling him.

As the two blue minions scuffled with one another, January decided to voice her opinion on the matter. "Are these little guys usually like this?"

"Honestly, I expect this kind of behavior from two other members of their squad." Carlon replied. "Kind of normal, actually. However, I care less of their brotherly squabbles." Carlon got up from kneeling and went to the door that lead out to the hallway. "Just remember. One peep." Carlon made a gesture of using a finger to slit his own throat towards January before finally leaving.

January shuddered at the thought. Even though she was glad that she didn't kill Fred, she felt as though she was not out of the frying pan. She looked to her captives. "... So uh... Are you guys gonna set me down?"

"Should we set her down?" "Nah. She smells pretty." "She smell pretty, yeh. But we got guard duty." "Can we take break and then go back?" "Gnarl doesn't like when we take breaks without his sayings we take breaks." "Yeah. Gnarl more strict than Mud, but I do without Mud's beatings." "But what we do with girly?" "I dunno." "We can asks Coot, but I think he's busy fightings Heals." "Mud is not here, so we cant's asks him." "So... We no set her down?" "Not now." "When? My arms tired." "Hold your share, Grot!" "Okay."

January sighed.

* * *

 **A/N: I know it's not a mission from the Saint's Row 3 game, but I decided to deviate a little. Hope you didn't mind!**


	13. A Solution to Morningstar's Leader

**Chapter 13: A Solution to Morningstar's Leader  
**

* * *

Coot and Heals was standing before Mud, having suffered several more bruises than they had liked to receive. And besides them was a woman dressed as a go-go dancer, whose name was known by Coot as January. A few hours before now, Coot had relayed to Mud everything that had happened in great detail, while Heals shared his experience of the ordeal in his own minionish way. After the explanation, they were both promptly punished in front of January. However, Mud's arms had grown tired from the constant beating he dealt to Heals and Coot, and elected to simply sit patiently in front of them all and glare at them for several minutes. The two blue minions and January were seated in a couch that was within the managers office, while Mud was on the only swiveling computer chair.

After the uncomfortable silence, January broke the peace. "Uh... So... I guess I should thank you for getting those short guys to stop groping and holding me."

Mud hissed at January before speaking. "Mud no need looking after dancer. Mud is leader, and leader not babysitter."

January blinked a few times. "... So... Is that the name of the overlord guy? Is his name Mud?"

"No!" Mud hissed, madly gesturing. "Mud is Mud! Mud is not mastah! Mud is leader of elite minion squad! Mastah is overlord of Stilwater! Stupid dancer lady."

January had sunken into the couch under Mud's yelling, but she didn't want to make him even more angry at her. Coot leaned to January to explain in a whisper. "He likes to talk in third person."

January began to understand, though it helped her situation none. Heals decided to voice his opinion. "But dancer lady can, um, do stuff for us! I wants keep her!" That outburst was rewarded with Mud sprinting to Heals and giving him a sharp blow to his head.

Mud returned to his desk chair and stared at them all again. "Mud has no time for the babysittings, so Mud talk to Gnarl to comings here for plan with dancer lady."

"whahah?" January squeaked. "But that overlord guy said that he would spare me! I promised I wouldn't tell anyone about him and you guys!"

"And mastah says yous tried killings friend to make good on promise, Mud knows this." Mud said, shifting a scowl to a smile that turned into a sharp teeth filled smirk. "But Mud will make sure yous make good on promise too. You may be spared, but that doesn't mean Mud can lets you go without, um... Soup... Uh... Super..."

"... Supervision?" Coot said, finishing Mud's sentence. He was rewarded with a strike to his head.

"Yeah, that." Mud replied, snarling and returning to his swivel chair again.

"Oh god." January said, realizing the situation and putting her palms to her face. "I'm going to be a prisoner to fantasy goblins."

"It's not so bad." Coot replied, rubbing his head. "Think of it like having monsters living in your closets, under your beds, and in your vents. We WILL keep an eye on you in very subtle ways to make sure you don't tattle on us. If it's not obvious by now, our master is wishing to be subtle during his time in Steelport, and he wishes to keep the public eye off of him. ... For the moment, that is."

"... You live under beds?" January said, confusing everyone.

"Uh... Minions don't really live under beds. I was just using that as an expression. How did you even come to the conclusion we even do that?" Coot said, shaking his head at her.

"Ex-press-shuns, sub-tall, conk-ooze-shun. Enough with fancy words or Mud bonks heads more!" Mud warned, waving the blunt end of his police baton threateningly at Coot.

It was then that another minion entered the managers office. "Really, Coot? To think that you would have smartened up and stopped antagonizing your leader. Despite being in a eight minion special forces squad, you lack the discipline for such an elite position, or any future positions for that matter." A hobbled minion in red and black rags with a glowing crystal above his head said, making his way into the room.

January turned to look at the walnut-esque minion, eyes wide and mouth agape. "Uh... And who are you?" She asked.

The walnut turned to the go-go dancer and smiled reassuringly. Or at least tried to, since it resulted in making January feel very uncomfortable. "I apologize, miss January. I am known as the minion master, Gnarl, advisor to our lord of darkness. Now, I am told of an inconvenience that has occurred here recently, and I'm afraid that I myself will need to address this eh... unneeded intrusion. However, the three of you are needed." He said, gesturing to Mud, Heals and Coot.

"But what about dancer lady?" Mud asked, pointing his baton at January and making her flinch.

"I'll deal with her. Go and get ready for the mission with Bill and Bake. They will fill you in on what to do. I shall take part in the mission shortly."

"Hrugh... Okay, fine, Mud guesses." Mud said, hopping off his swivel chair and going out of the room. He was promptly followed by Heals and Coot.

Once the three minions had left the room, Gnarl went to the swivel chair and sat upon it. After an uncomfortable silence, Gnarl began, clasping his clawed fingers together. "Alright then. This is how it's going to be. I'll start by telling you of a cautionary tale."

* * *

Carlon had finally figured out a plan to take down Morningstar. It took him a long time, but he had remembered that he had stolen a bomb from a military base, which happened to be conveniently placed in a secure location that was close to his netherworld tower. He could use this bomb to destroy Phillipe Loren's base of operations, and make an example of him once and for all! That is if he somehow survived the explosion. If he didn't, then it would be a bonus to Carlon. After realizing what he had, Carlon's mind raced with other options and made counter-tactics against possible variables. Using the new under-armor upgrade for his brown minions, and delivering the bomb to blow up the Syndicate's tower, he can vanquish Loren and finally erase a loose end. After all, Carlon had a score to settle.

After explaining his plan to Gnarl, he headed to the minion burrows and re-borrowed Gnarl's megaphone. Apparently, it was the only device in the burrows that had the power to jostle nearly every minion, even those that were too invested in their pilfered toys and handheld games. Carlon waded into the minion masses and stood tall, looking among them as they milled about, though the few that was close to him saluted and stared up in awe. After a long scan of the hordes before him, Carlon raised his megaphone and spoke into it.

 **"Listen up, minions!"** Carlon bellowed, catching everyone's attention. After a quick glance to make sure every minion was listening to him, Carlon continued with his announcement. **"It's about time I addressed something to you all. A long time ago, I made a statement regarding us being procrastinate in our evil. I thought that by setting us a goal, we could overcome our stagnation. But we were played outright. As of now, I stand before you all as a man that has been made ashamed by his capture. I stand before you all as a man who's been made an embarrassment to the world. But most of all, I stand before you with my broken pride, made so by the detestable leader of the Morningstar gang in Steelport, known as Phillipe Loren."**

He put extra emphasis in his name, making every minion start hissing at the mention of him. "That guy must die!" "We will be makings him see his own face once we rip it off. Then we feeds his face to him!" "Burn his suit! Burn his suit!" "Kill! Kill!" "Grah!"

 **"He has stolen your brothers, the armor off my back, and my prized weapon. The taste of our defeat was bitter, but this experience will embolden our hate towards our enemy, and embiggen our wrath against our foes. They will be made an example as WE rise to the top as this world's evil, once again!"**

"We crush their skulls!" "Boil eyeballs!" "Stab! Stab! Staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaab~!" "Make their mommies cry!" "Stub their toes and go for throats!" "Pull out their squishy belly bits!" "I want see their blood!" "Blood!" "Blood!" "Blood!" "Blood!" "Blood!" "Blood!" "Blood!" "Suited people gonna die!" "Let me at them!" "Graaaaah!"

Carlon interjected before another minion riot happened. **"It's time to take Loren down, minions. Those of you in my horde, get ready! Were giving these high-horsed bastards a battle that will mark their end, make people think twice about crossing the path of an overlord, and give the leader of Morningstar what's coming to him!"**

The intended effect that Carlon wanted was to increase morale. Indeed, the minions felt a significant boost in their confidence, which resulted in the minions beating each other up in a full blown riot. Carlon nodded, turned, and headed back to the netherworld tower. Carlon was going to do everything possible to make sure that Loren dies. Even going so far as to rile up the minions into a bloodthirsty rampage. At least it would be more productive to have the minions 'spar' with their brothers than to sit on your hands until the mission begins.

The battle with Loren shall be met today.

* * *

 _"Are you certain we should do this now, sire? Despite the fact that I'm ecstatic about ending that Loren character once and for all, I'm still dealing with our intruder."_

"She can wait. I now demand Loren's retribution." Carlon growled, already at the basement of the penthouse forward base. Like the apartment complex in Brickston, the penthouse was redecorated to enable minions to fortify and defend the building from outside attacks, while still looking like any ordinary building from the outside. After emerging from the nether portal, he turned around and shouted the minion composition that he wanted. "Fifteen browns, twelve greens, twelve reds, and eleven blues!"

As the minions flowed from the minion gates around the nether portal, Gnarl replied in a dejected tone. _"As you command, sire. I suppose she wouldn't mind too much being a guest. I suppose you don't have any complaints against her staying in your private quarters for a time?"_

Carlon paused. "... Oh no. Please tell me she's not going through my belongings?"

 _"Actually, I made sure that the vitally important areas is blocked off by a group of brown minions I carefully selected. I have made quick arrangements to ensure that her stay is comfortable, while not letting her access into the more vital areas, like your magic or tower upgrade rooms."_

Carlon continued his way to the outside of the penthouse skyscraper. "Gnarl, why didn't you mention this sooner?!"

 _"There wasn't enough time, my lord. However, I was able to give her a cautionary tale, which should sort her out long enough for us to complete this mission, and let us get back in time to rectify her."  
_

"Uh... Should I ask which tale it was?" Carlon said as he bathed in the daylight, his second best armor shining like some ominous beacon. Any person, be it peasant or hobo, walking down the sidewalk that Carlon emerged on stopped in their tracks when they saw him. They kept their distance and murmured among themselves.

 _"You could, sire, but that would take time away from our mission. Bill should be delivering your chariot to you now."_

"Chariot? So I'm not walking there?" Carlon said, tilting his head.

 _"Why walk when you could ride in style? It'll save some wear and tear on your boots, sire!"_

Carlon grunted, accepting Gnarl's sound logic. A few seconds later, Carlon saw a vehicle coming in from around the corner of the block he was on. His eyebrows raised when he recognized the vehicle. A black and silver bus, adorned with gold tipped spikes and thorns, and having a minion face as the grill pulled up and parked in front of Carlon. After it stopped, the doors opened to reveal a brown minion with a trucker cap and a wife beater T-shirt. "My lord's bus is ready! Vroom vroom!" Bill exclaimed, revving the engine.

"What the- ... How the abyss did you get it here?" Carlon asked incredulously.

"Took a while for me. Took apart minion transport with tools, then put each part back together like this! Very long time to get right. I think it very same, like it was in Stilwater."

Carlon nodded approvingly and entered the bus, looking for any details that was off by a superficial margin. When he found none, he nodded more in approvement. "Grand. You go and get the bomb. Were taking Loren down."

"Hruh!" Bill excitedly hopped out of the bus and dashed away, frightening many people that happened to be walking down that sidewalk. The people backed away even more when minions streamed out of the penthouse that once belonged to the Morningstar criminal gang.

After lowering his seat down to accommodate his height, Carlon readied his seat belt and took off. His destination: The Syndicate tower.

 _"After Loren is dealt with, do you think we should take down the other gangs in this city? This Syndicate organization might hinder us in the future."_

"Killing Loren should set and example. If they still go after me afterwards, then I'll come after them."

 _"Well... Good thing we have the bomb!"_

"In any case, I want a group of watchers in this city and looking at the building. Have them be on the lookout for Loren at all times."

 _"I'm willing to suggest that he might be located on the top floor, sire. Going up there and working your way down to flush your enemies out seems like a perfectly good strategy to use again! Although, stationing watchers in another city will take time."_

"I think he'll be expecting an air raid, so no helicopter infiltration this time. This will be a good old fashioned front door assault, with lots of death for everyone. As for the watchers, just have the best ones we have on standby in our city to surround The Syndicate building. Speaking of death, does Bill know where to go to deliver the bomb?"

 _"Coot is able to give him proper directions, my lord. But to be cautious, slay the guards in the loading dock. Wouldn't want a stray bullet setting the bomb off prematurely!"_

The minions in the bus was riled up, jumping up and down and excitedly chatting with one another. "Are we there yet?" "Master, Wretch keeps kicking me!" "Then stop touching butt." "Ooh, cotton candy!" "Uh... That not candy." "Blagh!" "Put that away. We is on a mission!" "But I on water level!" "Get armpit off my face!" "Are we there yet?"

Despite the annoyances of backseat drivers, Carlon actually missed being able to drive his old 'overlord approved' cheetah bus back in Stilwater. But back in Stilwater, the city itself held a painful memory that he didn't want to relive. Stilwater became a cesspool of degenerates, and said degenerates were living in decaying buildings and in fear of meeting a horde of minions or getting reported by an enslaved or watcher. But Carlon would rather return there after making sure that Loren was thoroughly dealt with. With the Syndicate building coming into view, Carlon would quickly assess the best strategy to clear the loading dock. The outside of the building might seem extravagantly garish, the service tunnel was unremarkable and drab. But when he entered the building's loading dock, his vision was quickly blinded with red lights. "Gah! Can't see!"

 _"Sniper specialists, sire! Cover your face!"_ Gnarl advised.

Despite driving a bus with one hand, and using a gauntlet to shield his face from blinding lasers and potential sniper potshots, he managed to run down three Morningstar guards in a brutal collision, killing a few and pinning one to a parked truck. "Alright, my minions! Out of the bus! Kill all Morningstar!" Carlon shouted, unbuckling his seat belt and opening the bus's doors.

As he stepped out, the minions within filed out and ran in all directions. Everyone was immediately set upon by the horde of the gnashing goblinoid monsters, getting killed by various methods that only minions could provide. A brown charged a lone gunner and smacked his shotgun out of his hand, then went for a sweeping hit that knocked his knee that resulted in his target getting floored quickly. The minion's brothers surrounded the lone Morningstar guard, attacking the downed ragdoll until the minions were satisfied. The reds did their part, distracting the Morningstar that tried to pepper the incoming horde with bullets. They were rewarded for their effort with fire thrown at their faces, some even catching aflame and dying painfully from third degree burn induced pyromania. The snipers, though quick to avoiding flame flung in their direction when the red minions came close, were eventually assassinated by greens, the silent killers of Carlon's reign. No matter how keen a sniper's eyes are, a green minions ability to become invisible used with stealthy tactics would bring low any well defended and entrenched gunner. Casualties for the Morningstar were at an all time high, with many guards dead. But the overlord's forces suffered very little, thanks to the blues that kept their heads low, 'blink' past enemy positions and fortifications, and retrieve or revive their fallen allies in relative safety.

Carlon was also present in the battle as well. His minions was meant to focus on being meat-shields, but his task was to fight any unconventional enemies that would pick off too many of his minions too quickly, or change the positioning and strategy of the minions when needed. He would swing his deadly axe, Forest Bane, at any would-be melee attacker that dared come too close to him, or switch to using his SMGs to assail any foe that was out of reach. Decapitated heads rolled and bodies filled with hot lead paved Carlon's path of destruction, and anyone caught in his wake became fated for his slaying, either by his hand or by his minions under his command.

After cutting off a guard's arm and striking him across the face with it, Carlon turned and saw an unwelcome sight that he dreaded. A juggernaut of muscular proportions jostled out a door and moved forward, wearing an oversized wife-beater shirt and oversized cargo pants of custom make, barreling towards Carlon. "Ohhh what the abyss?"

 _"Hmm. I do believe that that individual is similar to the brute you faced before... But that can't be right! I don't see signs of zombie reanimation. What is going on here?! I saw you chopping his head off and splitting it in half! That or he is a twin brother of three."_

Carlon grunted as he sprinted forward with his axe at the ready. He felt a surge of confidence with the knowledge he gained from the fight of the previous brute, and he was willing to test his own mettle against this reappearing monster. The axe he swung toward the huge enemy was ineffective as he was charged into and pushed away with great force. Carlon grunted as he was floored, but got back up quickly to redouble his attack. His axe bit into the brute's skin and stopped at the bone, the brute using his own arms to shield himself from the overlord's strikes. A massive fist plummeted and struck Carlon in the face, sending him flying into the side of a truck's trailer, welting it heavily. "... Ow."

"Uuuugh. Hand hurts." The brute said, pawing at his own fist that was bloodied from striking the pointed metal of Carlon's armor. An unusual response for when his own forearms had deep gashes that revealed slivers of white.

Carlon shrugged and left the huge indent of the truck's trailer. "Okay... Fighting head-on with a brute. Not a good idea. Minions! Get him!"

Minions that were looking for new prey to hunt directed their attention to the lone brute that launched their master and charged him. The browns were the second to join in the battle, seeing as though Carlon dealt first blood. Their weapons were rudimentary, many being stolen or makeshift, but they served a brown minions purpose well. However, the brute had his hands free, enabling him to swing his arms and fists around to swat his attackers away. The red minions stayed out of the brute's reach, preferring to assail their target with burning projectiles. Despite the brute's protestations, spoken in guttural grunts, his protest turned into anguish when the green minions found their way on his back. The greens then played their favorite game on the brute, called 'Pin the Blades in the Foe'. It's a lot like 'Pin the Tail on the Donkey', except more bloody, involved a gratuitous amount of stabbing, and the victory condition is the death of the foe. And everybody can play, so long as you know how to latch onto someone's back and stab it. It was at this point that the brute reached over his back and pulled off any latched green minions in reach and used them as living smelly bludgeoning devices to the nearby brown minions, or throwing the green minions at the red minions. The blues were particularly handy, running in close to retrieve any minion that was defeated and bringing them back to life. The brute was too distracted with everything else to notice the importance of the blue minions, or too stupid to know the importance of their healing powers. After one last defiant roar, the brute fell and crumpled under the horde of minions savaging him.

Carlon inhaled and exhaled in relief. _"The bomb is now arriving. Bill tried to secure the bomb onto his Trucky, but I convinced him to use a trailer hitch instead."_ The telltale motor engine of a truck echoed in the halls of the loading dock. Bill had arrived, driving his truck and coming to a halt, its cargo safely (or to be more accurate, haphazardly) placed and tied in the truck's trailer.

Carlon approached the truck and inspected the trailer's cargo. Once the truck's trailer's doors opened, a gaggle of minions belonging to the elite minion squad filtered out and carried on with their respective missions. Within the trailer, he could see a red minion fiddling with its controls. The red minion was wearing a rastacap, panties on his shoulders, and a flasher's coat. The minion perked up it's ears and smiled at his overlord. "Master! I can sets time for many minutes. And when minutes are up, BADOOM~!" The minion said, throwing his hands up and laughing maniacally.

"Aptly put, Bake. Set it for, lets say, sixteen minutes. If Gnarl or I tell you to stop the countdown, do it." Carlon commanded.

"Oh-kay!" Bake said, already tapping away at the keypad and inputting the minutes. "And it done. Happy smashings, master!"

Carlon nodded, turned and headed for an entry into the building. After spending twenty seconds looking for a way inside, he found an elevator that could suit such a purpose as basic as an entry point. "My horde, with me!" Minions that were scouring for the next foe to slay stopped what they were doing and joined their master, piling into the elevator.

 _"Sixteen minutes till the detonation? Sounds a bit close for comfort, sire."_ Gnarl said, sounding worried for the first time in a while.

"Just an insurance policy. If I don't kill him quickly enough, or if he kills me, then the bomb will." Carlon pressed a button that told the elevator to go to the top floor. The elevator doors slid shut, prompting the elevator to begin its ascent. However, after fifteen seconds of ascending up the building, the elevator suddenly stopped. "... Uh... What?"

 _"Something wrong, sire?"_

"The elevator suddenly stopped."

 _"Stopped? Would that mean someone is trying to get on?"_

"No, it just stopped. Like... Suddenly."

 _"... I think I need more context other than 'suddenly stopped', my lord."_

Another familiar voice chimed in and broken the monotony. "Did you really expect to waltz right up to my office when I control the building?"

The elevator doors finally opened, revealing a sheet metal corridor that curved left. Carlon inhaled and huffed contemptuously, stomping forward. "Figures."

As he rounded the corner, more Morningstar guards met with him to defend their building. They were quickly cut down by the wave of his hand, which prompted his minions to kill the aggressors for him. A paltry defense force that was equal to an insult directed at the overlord. Loren will pay for sending his men to hunt him. When he entered the room that the corridor connected into, his expression changed from stoic intimidation to abated befuddlement. The room was painted a garish color of red, with many control panels and pods of some description inhabiting the inside of this room. Even though the guards had several vantage points within, he knew that a liberal use of his SMG's could prevent them from taking potshots at him, forcing them to rely on their cover and the minions could push up to them. But what really got Carlon's attention was what was inside the pods themselves. _"... Why are there pods in this room? And what is in them? ... People?"_

Carlon looked at one of the 'pods' and... "Oh... Oh fuck, it's another of those brutes we keep seeing. I think they're coming from these pod things."

 _"Pod people! That would explain their cookie cutter facial details, and abnormal strength! However, the pods are mechanical in design, so it stands to reason that these brutes are not plant or fungus in origin. Even so, they were never human to begin with. Still, we should cut them down without hesitation, much like weeds on a lawn!"_

Upon making his way past the dead guards, Carlon scaled the upper floors of several observation platforms and other consoles that monitored the life signs and growth stages of the brutes within the mechanical pods. Finally reaching the top-most platform, Carlon's befuddlement escalated further. "Uh oh."

 _"Position your reds in front of you, my lord!"_ Gnarl shouted as another brute came into view. This one was clearly different from the others that Carlon had met. This particular brute bore metal shoulder pads, a welding mask, and two huge tanks on his back. He charged in front of Carlon and aimed a very unusual weapon that spouted a small flame from it's tip. Carlon immediately reacted and used Gnarl's advice, positioning his reds in front of himself. The reds were swathed in an eruption of flame.

However, the reds were immune to the otherwise ravaging bite of fire, and waded in the attacking flames unaffected. "Flamer brute? At least it's not a minigun toting bastard." Carlon aimed his SMG's at the brute's tanks and opened fire. After some sustained firing, the result was a spectacular explosion of fire and chaos, which killed the brute in a decisive blow.

 _"Fighting reds with fire is never a good idea. It's much akin to drowning blues with water, or killing greens with poison."_

Once the fires had been absorbed by the reds, Carlon strode forward and continued his onslaught, letting his minions pick up whatever cash and ammo his enemies had and bring them to him. Carlon and his horde still slayed all enemies that dared near his presence. After a minion stunned a guard with a blow to the head, the surrounding minions decided to push him over the guardrails and let gravity do their work. Proceeding forward, Carlon emerged into yet another room. A sight that was quite different from the pods and medical monitoring equipment greeted Carlon, making him even more bewildered than previously. Instead of a pod, there was a naked brute that was attached to a huge and enforced gurney that was inclined, making the brute slightly lower his head toward the floor. As of this moment, Carlon was now sufficiently startled by these turn of events. "What in the infernal abyss is all this?"

The brute moved slowly, appearing as though it was awaking from a nap. His gaze fluttered to meet Carlon's as this giant spoke to him. "Phillipe likes his things custom-made. And for his brutes, I am the master pattern, you see."

 _"This brute is more intelligent sounding. This might be an odd suggestion, my lord, but perhaps we should ask a few questions to this individual? We can always kill him later! Hehee~!"_

Carlon gazed at the brute that could form complete sentences, however averting from staring at more private areas. "Alright, obvious question first: You are not like the other pod people that I have slain. Why?"

The smart brute shook his head. "The copies are flawed. They have my brawn but not my brain. I can help you."

 _"Hah! The enemy of my enemy is my ally! That is until that ally starts to run out of enemies. I advise caution in releasing him."_

Carlon nodded and looked down, taking a deep breath and exhaled after a quick mull over his thoughts. He looked back up at the smart brute. "You really want to assist me? Those wires look like they are putting you in a sedated state."

The brute furrowed his brows and changed his expression to one of calm anger, which surprised and impressed Carlon. "Trust me. I'm still strong enough to kill Phillipe."

Carlon nodded. He decided to take the chance. He gestured his left gauntlet toward the smart brute. "Get him off of there. He is not to be harmed." As the minions clamored around and on the brute, they furiously gnawed and battered at his restraints. After some successful attempts by the minions, the smart brute flexed and pulled himself out of the heavy restraints, landing in a kneeled position. After he got up, he shrugged his shoulders and craned his neck, several pops reverberating the air slightly. Carlon, on the other hand, was impressed. Impressed that not only this 'original brute' had a hate for Loren that rivaled his own, but that he was the first brute that didn't outright attack him. Notwithstanding the brute he evaded from the clothing store. "So uh... Want a weapon?"

"No time." The smart brute said, trudging forward, giving Carlon the impression that he would lead the way to both of their targets. Carlon took the hint and followed after him, his minions right behind.

 _"Well at least he's on our side."_ Gnarl chimed in.

"This elevator will take us to the offices." the giant said, stopping and standing in front of a set of doors.

* * *

Carlon had to hand it to the big hamhock. He had brains that potentially complemented his brawn. It could be the posture, or how his eyes glinted with intelligence, or his utterly enormous hatred to Loren. But Carlon decided that he had enough admiring the powerhouse next to him. He spoke below a whisper. "Gnarl, have the watchers reported anything?"

 _"They have told me that they have witnessed several Morningstar personnel entering the Syndicate building. Be on guard, sire."_

Carlon huffed, nearly timed with the ding of the elevator that told them that they were at their stop. The brute strode forward. "Follow me to Phillipe's office."

Carlon strode forward as well, trying to match with the smart brute's speed. Despite being so large, the smart brute carried himself very well. However, Carlon did notice that one of his minions was stripping himself naked. He stopped to turn and yell at his underling. "Hey! Get your gear back on! Just because the streaker is foregoing clothes, armor and weapons, doesn't mean you should too!"

After the giant of a man tackled through a door, he turned to witness the exchange and scoffed. "The human body is nothing to be ashamed of, unless you have... insecurities. ... Though I am unsure if that applies to your group of drekavac."

True, the human body shouldn't bear the imagery of shame. But even then, plate mail armor can go a long way. Carlon decided to press into the conversation with this large fellow. However, he felt compelled to ask on what a 'drekavac' was, but considered a different question. "So, unless you want to be nicknamed 'Smart Brute', I suggest telling me who you are."

"My name is Oleg Kirrlov, and I think it best for our friendship if I never elaborate. Just know that the enemy of your enemy is your friend. As long as you oppose The Syndicate, you have nothing to fear of me." Oleg said, charging into even more doors and scaling more stairs with Carlon and minions behind him.

"Seems like we do have common enemies then. How do you feel about working with me?" Carlon asked.

"We will talk later. Loren's office is this way!" Oleg said, picking up his pace as he turned a corner.

Carlon huffed, though he had to admire Oleg's determination. However, upon reaching that corner, he spotted a familiar individual in the distance ahead of their path. A man whose visage that was ingrained into Carlon's brain since the day they met, save for the slight additional detail of an eye-patch. Carlon, with the help of Oleg Kirrlov, had finally found Phillipe Loren. Phillipe was running into an elevator at the time they found him.

Carlon growled as he pulled out his SMG's and aimed them at his most hated enemy. "PHIL!" Carlon shouted, firing many rounds at his enemy. Phillipe lighted a cigarette and stood nonchalantly, tilting his head slightly with an angry, yet nonchalant, stare as the elevator doors closed, the SMG bullets completely missing their mark. Carlon finally approached the elevator and started slicing at the doors with his axe. "Grah! Abyss!" Despite his attempt, he could see through the gashed holes he made that the elevator Phillipe is on was already descending down.

Oleg caught up to Carlon, surprised by the burst of speed that he was able to produce while wearing armor. However, Oleg addressed something to Carlon that he didn't especially liked. "That's an express elevator to the basement... There's no way to catch him."

Carlon stopped slashing at the doors of the express elevator and turned toward Oleg with a dangerous savagery in his eyes. "... What?"

"We can't intercept him in time. Even if the express elevator comes back up, or if we find another one on this level, he would have already made his escape." Oleg explained.

Carlon hesitated before turning and walking off in a random direction. After going through a corridor archway, he came across a type of circular indoor balcony that overlooked several levels. It was like someone decided to saw a circle through the floor and kept on going straight down to the lower floors, and then set up a circle of rails on each opened floor. From above, a large ridged sphere hanged as though it was some kind of futuristic chandelier.

At the other end of the circular balcony, Morningstar guards flooded out to meet their intruders. When they arrived, they aimed and fired their guns at Carlon. Despite their aggression, Carlon remained motionless as he stood there, clenching and relaxing his left hand. After around twenty five seconds of idling, Carlon had finally decided that he would act out his pent up frustration.

 **"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"** Carlon dropped his axe and raised both of his arms, releasing his rage and anger out to the surrounding environment. Both lightning and fire erupted from his hands and body, catching everything on fire. Fireballs randomly shot off in differing directions, hitting walls, the floor and the ceiling, and everything that was in front of Carlon. The Morningstar guard were caught in surprise, and was caught on fire or electrocuted as they were within the firing range of the tantric overlord. The orb chandelier was slowly glowing redder and brighter as it took most of the damage, eventually breaking off from it's counterweight and went into free-fall.

After a minute of sustained stress-spellcasting, Carlon finally relaxed his arms and huffed, as though breathless. The damage that was done in the general direction Carlon faced was extensive, smelling like overcooked barbecue, and smelling like ozone. The Morningstar guards either suffered a fate of being burned alive by fire, or reduced to nothing but ashes by lightning. Oleg, who had been watching the damage unfold, started to approach Carlon when the sprinklers finally started to activate. "Uh... Will you be fine?"

Carlon picked up his axe and turned to face Oleg. "... Yeah." He said, his voice somehow an octave lower and more graveled than before.

Oleg, despite meeting Carlon for the first time, shook his head. "You do not seem fine, but I will leave it at that."

"Yeah..." Carlon replied, shaking his head and trying to bring his focus back to the present moment. "Anyway, let's get out of here before the bomb goes off."

"You brought a bomb?" Oleg said in surprise.

"I suggest getting to an express elevator." Carlon deadpanned.

"... Right. This way." Oleg said, leading Carlon again.

* * *

Upon leaving the express elevator that Phillipe used, Carlon, his minions, and Oleg made their way out. Carlon recognized the interior of the room he was in and realized that he was in the loading dock again. Carlon made a depressed sigh. He really wanted to kill Phillipe. And now he was not going to get the chance to.

But even so, life continues on. As Carlon took leave of the elevator, he realized that there will always be next time- *splortch*

Carlon looked down when he heard that he stepped on something. "... Whah?"

... He couldn't believe it! It was Phillipe Loren! But... he was somehow flatter than a pancake. How? "Something the matter? ... Wait, is that Phillipe?" Oleg said, surprised.

"How in the..." Carlon looked up and around, trying to find the reason why Phillipe was dead and squashed.

When he couldn't figure out the cause, Gnarl answered him. _"My lord, perhaps you should know that a slightly molten ball with a red smudge mark on it rolled out of the access tunnel of the loading dock. One of the watchers reported as such, in any case. I believe you inadvertently slain the leader of Morningstar!"_

"Oh... Haha. HA HA HAH AHAH! OH THAT'S RICH!" Carlon said, laughing and stomping on the cadaver.

"... I don't think I get your humor." Oleg said, scratching his bald head.

"AHAHAH! Ahahhh... I'm just remembering something from my past, Oleg. I said this schmuck that I would crush him when I got the chance." Carlon said, kicking the broken and squished corpse. "But the ball that I caused to drop ended up dropping on him! Ahah! Ah... Wow. What an indirect way to keep my word, huh?"

"Mm. As you say." Oleg said, moving forward again. "But whether or not that's true, then perhaps we could stop this bomb from exploding?"

Carlon looked up and turned to Oleg. _"I suggest against that action, sire."_ Gnarl hissed. _"I would prefer to see the bomb perform its action and see how much damage it could do. I would imagine it'd be like a castle sized firework going off! Hahaha!"_

Carlon tilted his head as he gave a curious glare at Oleg. "What do you mean by that, Oleg?"

Oleg turned to Carlon, his stance stiffening. "I hate this place more than anyone but it would be folly to destroy Phillipe's research without seeing what we can harvest from it."

 _"But sire! Castle sized firework!"_ Gnarl whined.

Carlon nodded his head, though he was weighing the options present to him. "I WAS sort of... you know... planning to let the other factions of The Syndicate know what would happen if they should cross me."

"An elaborate message, but why not keep the building for yourself?"

Carlon nodded as he turned away to consider his choices. On one hand, the building would blow up and he would send a message to The Syndicate. On the other hand, he would gain another forward base and be able to see what kind of tech that Phillipe Loren was developing. Choices, choices.

 _"My lord. Not to pester you in your time of thought, but we have nearly six minutes before we disperse into giblets and sent skyward. No pressure or anything!"_

Carlon nodded his head and finally decided. "Alright, we keep the building. Whatever Phillipe has been developing here, it'll be to our benefit. Disarm the bomb."

 _"That's your cue, Bake. Deactivate the explosive before everyone goes out with a bang!"_

"Disarming bomb!" A red minion screamed from within the trailer that housed the bomb.

* * *

Carlon pushed through a set of red doors with a red star with a white outline, appearing before a grand room that he would assume once belonged to Phillipe. As what one would expect of the interior, it was black, red, and pink. It had several statues wielding spears and the decor was absolutely garish. It might be aesthetically pleasing to a designer that believed that he or she had taste in fen shui and decor fashion. But to Carlon, he believes that it would make anyone with half the mind he has start vomiting and throw himself or herself out the windows of this place. However, he would instead settle on throwing out the furniture and replace them with something more functional. And spiky. "Not a big fan of the color of the light. It's like I'm swimming in a charred, bleeding vagina. Too much pink for my tastes."

Following after Carlon was Oleg, also taking in the sights. "You'd prefer a more manly shade, like purple?"

Carlon turned to face Oleg and stifled a laugh. Even though his helm darkened his face, a bemused grin was stretched across his mouth. Carlon was getting the impression that he would get along very well with Oleg.

But then came the question. What else resided in this skyscraper, other than the brute cloning machines?

* * *

 **A/N: Alright, so I'm going to put a hold on this story for a bit, guys.  
**

 **After looking through the youtubes of future events of Saints Row 3, I kind of realized that the story would be running into a paradox. So uh... Yeah, this is gonna be put on hold until I figure out what to do next. However, I am open to suggestions! Use the review thingamajigger to tell me how you like my fanfiction story and give me some options on how to proceed! Hell, I might use this free time to start another fanfiction story. Maybe like... I dunno. Zerg vs... Um... Uh... ... ... ... Star Trek? ... Star Wars? ... Starbound? ... Or some kind of space fairing science fiction story? ... I'll burn the bridge when I get to it. You guys are free to offer me some suggestions regarding to this too, if you really wanted.**

 **But you know the saying! Evil always finds a way.**


	14. Ally Search in Steelport

**Chapter 14: Ally Search in Steelport**

* * *

In the private quarters, a very lucky girl was bathing in a pool within the private quarters. As she looked around, taking in the sights and sounds of this hellish place, she could see garish architecture of horrible and haunting designs. Minion statues would glare at her with empty threats as the gloom of unnatural light colored the wide spaces of this Gothic chamber. At least there was a water-proofed remote control that could change the channels of the angled widescreen television hanging above the pool, despite how out-of-place the remote and widescreen TV was in this environment. The newscaster, named Callahan Callahan, described the events of the sudden appearance of a giant glowing hot metal ball with a bloody smudge on it that was rolling around town. Apparently, it rolled out of The Syndicate building and caused mayhem and severe damage to the city as it knocked into buildings, cars, and people.

January was lucky indeed, but she doesn't know what kind of fate will occur to her once it starts unfolding further. Gnarl was nice enough to put her here, but she could do without the lecherous stares of the minion caretakers, no matter how much they say they wouldn't peek. At least the minions provided a swimsuit, or 'bathing suit' as she would prefer to call it, that she requested. Despite the fact that one would normally bathe naked, a bathing suit wouldn't be necessary for such an activity. Still, she believes some kind of cover is preferred over being naked and ogled at by perverted bystanders. The water was cool, and it served as an oasis of comfort in this warm environment, the air itself heavy and laced with volcanic fumes.

She sunk into the bathing pool and silently exhaled. At least she was safe. For the moment.

Hard metal clanked onto the decorated stone flooring from a distance, and this sound escalated in volume while the echos receded. Looking up from the pool, she saw The Overlord in all his metaled glory approached her. Her breathing had stopped completely when he came toward her, fearful of the fate that she believes might come to pass. Was she going to be punished?

He leaned forward and gazed down at her with condescending eyes, glowing with a sliver of yellow. "... So this is where Gnarl had placed you?"

January swore that she felt like she was shrinking in the water. "Uh... Yeah. The water was cold, so uh... I asked the minions to get me a bathing suit."

"Hrumph. Leave it to Gnarl to give attention to a pretty girl." The overlord said, shaking his head and face-palming. "You have ten minutes to get dressed and get out of my private quarters. If you're not ready at that time, I'm going to throw you off the balcony."

"Uh... Y-you really wouldn't do that to a lil' girl like me, right?"

The overlord leaned down and stared at January again, giving her a silent answer.

"... Um... O-okay. I'll get dressed and get out of your way." She looked around for a brief moment. "... Where are my clothes?!"

The overlord exhaled, a sigh escaping his throat while he pointed at a direction. "He has them."

January looked up and... found a brown minion wearing her bra as a hat while sitting on her clothes in a messy pile. The minion was amusing himself by stretching the pink panties and silently laughing. Apparently, he found something more amusing to accompany his time and forgot that he was supposed to sweep the floor. January stared at this minion for a few seconds before turning to the overlord. "Can I have permission to beat up that particular minion?" She asked.

The overlord stared bemusedly at January for a few seconds before he answered. "... I'll give you twenty minutes to get dressed."

"Thank you." January said, getting out of the pool of water and gingerly wringing her hair before wrapping it in a towel.

Once she left the water and got her hair wrapped, she slowly walked toward the minion that was playing with her clothes and underthings. The minion paid no mind to her until she stood right next to him, and the minion finally took notice when he noticed gorgeous bare legs in his peripheral vision. He looked at the long legs for a couple seconds before looking further up to the wide hips, then to the firm belly, then to the breasts that were taught within her bathing suit, and then onto January's face. Her face emoted between resting-bitch-face and contemptuous anger. After a pause of approximately eight seconds, the minion held up her underwear. "You want?"

January moved her leg forward and placed a foot onto the minion's chest and gently pushed him to the ground. After the minion was resting on his back, January firmly and gently straddled him. The minion's eyes widened in excitement as this happened. She reached toward his arms and held his hands by the wrists, bringing his arms together above his head. "I want you to lay down."

A dumbfounded and excited smile stretched onto the minion's face, no doubt perversely thinking naughty thoughts. January then casually reached behind herself to grab something out of his view. Once she came back with the object, the minion saw that she was unscrewing the sweep from the broomstick he carried. Once the sweeper was off, January struck the minion with the sweepless broomstick and broke it in half! "UAGH! Aaaauuuhhhh..." The blow struck hard on the minion's head, giving him a concussion and made him unfocused.

January then took the broken broomstick halves and started beating up the minion she mounted, punishing him severely. "AND! I! WANT! YOU! TO! NEVER! EVER! FUCKIN'! TOUCH! MY! THINGS! YOU! DAMN! DIRTY! MINION!" After a minute or two of constant beating, January stood up and exhaled contently, and collected her clothes that the minion was rolling in and wearing. January then proceeded into the overlord's bedroom with her clothes in her arms. After saying the words "Get out." to the minions in there, they hurriedly scuttled out faster than expected.

The minion that was bludgeoned with his own broomstick was still alive, but a collection of minions slowly congregated around him. They chuckled as they prodded and kicked his body.

"Hehehe, looky like Krump got dumped." "No, Krump gots played. She are sneaksy like greens!" "Funny. She no looks like a green." "Human lady is not minion, so she obviously not greensy." "Yah yah, but she played Krump good." "How is being smacked with broomstick being played with?" "It look very fun! Krump got to be played with by pretty pink lady!" "Looks likes it hurts a lot." "He be's wishings he's killied after minions in burrows learns he played with pink dancer lady." "I are already jealous! Krump had fun time with pink lady!" "Is Krump dead? He look like he be a little killy." "No, he not dead. What was it that they call this again? Afterglow?" "He are not look glowy." "That because Krump got knocked in head lots." "Hah! Then pink lady beat Krump enough to make him sleepies! Gnarl not like it when someone sleeps on job!" "I'ma tattle! I'ma tattle!" "yeah. We's tattle to everyone in borrows about Krump having fun. Minions then get lots jealous of Krump, and they beat him up lots too!" "I hope pink lady plays with me like that~." "But then yous gets beaten up by other minions too!" "Yah. But I saw how she jiggle when she played with Krump." "Jiggle? Ooh~!" "Me like jiggly things~."

January shivered in disgust as she dressed herself, eavesdropping on their conversation all the while. No matter how good it felt to exact some revenge on a pervert, these minions were on a whole other level.

* * *

Once Carlon was certain that the girl in his private quarters received the command to dress up and get out, he proceeded downstairs and came back to the throne room. Why Gnarl had decided to put her in his private quarters was beyond him. In fact, a wrought iron cage would be an acceptable alternative than simply leaving her in the decadence of his personal living area! At least she has around... nineteen minutes or so until he would come up there and deal with her personally. She was supposed to be under the care of the elite minion squad after all. "Gnarl." Carlon called out. "Is The Syndicate building thoroughly searched by the special forces group yet?"

The ancient minion peered through his magic mirror, no doubt being vigilant in surveying the elite minion squad's actions. "They are working hard, my lord. A minion that hardly works often means that they don't have an overlord to give them purpose."

"Heh. I'm still surprised that minions are that subservient. But I suppose that is something to appreciate when when you are evil." Carlon said.

"Indeed." Gnarl said, staring at the magic mirror.

"... Anyway, how about our 'other' guest. How is he faring?"

Gnarl turned away from his mirror. "Ah, Oleg. Giblet and his assistant is taking longer than expected, but I'm sure that they have finished taking in his measurements, and is now starting to make several clay molds for his armor and weapon parts. It should be about another hour before Giblet gets his armor and weapon of choice ready."

"Grand." Carlon remembered that Oleg wasn't too reticent about his feelings when the giant agreed to join him. Despite being against the idea of wearing custom armor made just for him, Carlon was insistent on giving him some form of protection. Oleg was now partnered with The Overlord and his forces of evil, and Carlon would not see the day that a lieutenant was not properly protected.

And speaking of Oleg. "I suppose I have some time to kill before the little brown welder makes my armor. However, I don't know why you insist on making me my own set of custom armor." Oleg said. Currently, he was wearing a custom tailored suit of giant make. How he got that, Carlon would never know.

"It's simple, really. You said you'd help me get rid of The Syndicate, and I freed you because you have the look of a man that is true to his word. This is but one step of many of me, helping you, to help me." Carlon explained.

Oleg nodded. "I see."

Carlon gestured to Oleg. "Think of it like... An initiation bonus. Or a present in a gift basket. You may don it however you like, such as during ceremonies, Halloween holiday celebrations, birthdays, things like that."

Oleg raised an eyebrow to Carlon. "And you wear that armor all the time?"

Carlon scoffed. "Well... Not ALL the time. I just wear it a lot since I never had the need to sleep."

"Is that some kind of magic induced insomnia, or some type of anti-sleep spell?"

"Hahaha, ah no. Gnarl's special eye acid has the power to keep one from sleeping. But other than that, true evil never sleeps."

"... I'm starting to feel that I may have regrets about being indebted to you." Oleg hesitantly said.

Carlon turned away from Oleg and went to Gnarl. "As the expression goes, 'the devil is in the details'."

Gnarl decided to cut into the conversation. "Pardon me, but can you two remain quiet for a few seconds? I need to concentrate on what the squad is trying to tell me." After a pause in the conversation, Gnarl nodded and went on with his business. "Now then. What were you trying to report to me, Mud?"

 _"Rake said that he found something! He tell Mud that it hidden in basement. He says it very hard to break into. Rake says it a secret door!"_

"Rather perplexing. I suppose it should bear some further investigation. Is Coot with Rake?"

 _"Uh... No. Coot is... Doing important mission right now! Toppy top secret!"_

"Mud." Gnarl said condescendingly.

 _"What?"_

"Standing in a toilet is not important to our mission."

 _"Uh... Really?"_

"Get Coot and bring him to Rake. With the both of them together, perhaps we can get this secret door to reveal its secrets to us."

Carlon knelt down to get a better look at Gnarl's magic mirror. Oleg gazed down at the small walnut and seemed perplexed. "Hmm... You seem to be quite different from the other drekavacs around here."

Gnarl turned to Oleg. "Drekavats? YA ne prosto prostoy goblin russkoy skazki. YA master min'ona! Sluga nashemu temnomu lordu."

Oleg tilted his head and placed a hand on his chin. "Khm. Vash russkiy nemnogo stranno. No tem ne meneye, ya nemnogo udivlen, chto vy znayete, moy yazyk!"

Carlon looked at Oleg and Gnarl. "... Uh. Hey. I don't mean to be rude, but... Can we talk in English while we're within the presence of an overlord? Namely: Me?"

Gnarl bowed before his master. "Apologies, sire. It won't happen again."

Oleg looked like he was amused by Gnarl's knowledge of the Russian language. "As I said before, you are quite different from the other drek... I mean... Min'ony."

 _"Gnarl! Yoohoo! Mud got Coot and Rake together."_

"Ah, excellent!" Gnarl said, returning to his perusing of his magic mirror. "Now Coot. Can you tell me why Rake is having difficulty trying to enter through this secret door Mud mentioned?"

Coot's voice came through the mirror. _"Why did you need me here, minion master Gnarl?"_

"So that you can identify the door and see why Rake has failed to crack it open." Gnarl replied.

 _"Stand by. Looks like this door was hidden by some carefully placed rotating bookcases. Hmm... Oh. Huh! Hmm. Mm. Rmh. Gah. Sorry Gnarl, but this door is titanium enforced, and the keypad is protected and wired into the door."_

"Can't you, oh I don't know, hack into it?"

 _"I may be the smartest blue minion, but I don't know how to hack into technology. Electricity and my damp fingers don't really mix well together."_

Gnarl slumped forward, his mirror making gentle contact with the ground and dragging on it. "Oh blast it! This technological age is too confusing to understand! If only we know of a tech-savvy individual that can assist us in this dilemma!"

"We could just enslave some Morningstar lieutenants, and ask who might know about the door's password." Carlon suggested.

"That is a good suggestion, sire, but I'm afraid with the lingering Morningstar lieutenants we DO find might not even know about that door's password! And the lieutenants you did find in this building is very much dead anyway."

Carlon sighed.

"Actually, I know of some people that can help. I can take you to them." Oleg announced.

Carlon and Gnarl turned to the giant of a man and stared at him with piqued curiosity.

* * *

In yet another night in Steelport, Carlon emerged from the darkness of the night and lead his horde of minions to another mission. He shifted his shoulders around and looked back on his gaggle of ghoulish soldiers. He wasn't sure what number of minions he wanted to bring with him, but the boat on the pier troubled him. It has the capability to seat seven people at once, but he knew that if the minions behaved, he could fit three to a seat, eight on the back seat, and perhaps five or eight to sit between the seats. The driver's seat would have to be occupied by him, since he doesn't trust a minion to drive him around. That should amount to a total of twenty two or twenty five minions coming with him.

"Alright Gnarl. As much as I regret saving people from a perilous fate, Oleg believes that we need these people. Who is the first lucky sap?" Carlon grumbled.

Gnarl replied to Carlon's question. _"A woman called Kinzie Kensington is currently detained by a group called the Deckers. As we have gone over in our mission briefing, they are holding the lass on board a barge. They are currently anchored and... vulnerable. The watercraft before you will take you to them."_

Carlon sighed, getting into the boat. "Five from each of the brown, red, and green tribes, get on the boat. I need seven blues getting on too. As for the rest of you, go back home."

The twenty two minions that Carlon requested got themselves onto Carlon's boat, while the remaining twenty seven of them walked away with heads hung low. "Aw. Me wanted to come with." "I knows. I too." "Weh."

Once the minions were in the watercraft, he turned towards all of them. "Don't rock the boat, or you'll fall out and into the water. So, whatever you do, don't go swimming unless you're a blue minion. But don't get off unless I say. Got it?" Once the minions behind him gave a thumbs up, nodded, or took hold of the seat they were in, Carlon jammed his thumb into the ignition and activated the boat. "Anything else I should know about this Kinzie person, Gnarl?"

 _"Oleg has informed me that she used to work for the Central Intelligence Agency, or simply CIA as many people would call them! She was apparently fired from her old job when she tried to present evidence of The Syndicate's criminal actions. The Deckers found a method to have her fired from her position, and she is now in their care."_

"Hmm. Ex-CIA. That might be useful. But more importantly, I don't think I messed with the Deckers personally before." Carlon said, driving the boat to the location where this Kinzie person was supposedly located.

 _"Remember those preening teens dressed in those black and blue leather jackets outside our apartment? Apparently, THOSE are the Deckers."_

"Really now?" Carlon said. A barge in the distance was coming into view. He took a deep breath before he growled his next words. "Then I think it's about time I 'educate' these kids."

* * *

In the room where the helm and communications were located, a red-haired woman in an blue FBI jacket and wearing a purple hoodie underneath, was laying on the ground. Her hands and feet were tied together, making her escape impossible. There were no tears for her to cry. She would not let her captors see her weakness. But here she lied, completely at their mercy and unable to do a thing. The Deckers thought that they were clever, having her fired from her old job and then stealing her away during an ambush she had not expected. She made the grave mistake of underestimating these cyber-punks and was now going to drown in the Steelport City river.

Guns broke the silence, prompting Kinzie to look up wildly and around herself. She could see that there were five, perhaps six or more, Decker goons around her. Judging from their expressions, something unexpected had came up.

"What the fuck? You hear that?" "You mean the gunshots that everyone here also heard? Yeah." "Oh shit, I hope it ain't the popo." "No, I don't think it is. They usually blast their sirens. It's, like, protocol for them or something." "The gunshots are getting closer, though." "Huh, right. How about we all go and check it out?" "What about the nerd?" "I'll stay behind." "Okay then. You stay while we go check it out." "Got it!"

One of the guards stayed behind, while the other guards left to investigate the noise. Gunfire from nearby barked and drowned out the gunfire from the distance, but one could assume that the gunshots from the distance were merely silenced by the unknown party. However, the nearby gunfire silenced as well with new sounds drowning them out. The sounds of manic screaming and melee combat.

"Uh... What the shit?" The lone cyber-punk said as he backed away from the only door into the barge's helm. But then a ball of fire flew through the only entrance in the room and struck the last of the Decker guards. Kinzie looked up from her perspective and saw that the Decker guarding her was flailing around madly as his face resembled a fresh burn victim from a burn ward. Kinzie looked toward her right to find something she thought she would never see in a lifetime.

Several ghoulish creatures filtered into the room and assailed the Decker guard, striking him with their weapons ceaselessly as they swarmed him. The yellowish-brown skinned monsters were around the height of a person with dwarfism, but they had long arms and stocky torsos that gave them a very odd appearance. They had large, glowing yellow eyes fixed upon scabbed faces and pointed, long ears, some of which looked like they were chewed on. These short monsters wore various equipment that was undoubtedly looted from their enemies and whatever house they targeted, but some also seemed to be equipped with armor that was undoubtedly made for them. They had the resemblance of a goblin from many number of fantasy novels, films, and video games. Once they were done with their prey, Kinzie counted five of these monsters and finally recognized them when they were still enough for her to get a good look.

Minions. They had to be minions. One turned toward her and cocked his head.

"Hurh? You no look like dick men." "They called Decker men, dumby!" "Why she all tieds up like that? Did she have fun-time?" "No. If it was fun-time, she be's more nakey. And on bed." "It not fun-time now, Daks! We needs to killy Dick men!" "Decker men, dumby!"

"That's enough out of you lot. Do you go by the name of Kinzie Kensington?" Kinzie turned her head and found another dreaded sight. A tall man in shiny armor towered over her, his armor glistening in the night as his eyes glowed a white, silvery color. The armor he wore was not of a knight's make, but something so much more foreboding and menacing, and spiked with gold tipped thorns. After two seconds of hesitation, she finally decided to give this man her reply.

"Yep."

The giant metaled man, of which she knew that he went by the title of Overlord, shifted his stance and leaned forward. "... You know, it is customary to thank someone when they have prevented your doom."

Kinzie didn't change her expression. "I'm still waiting to see if you plan to kill me."

"A sensible outlook in your situation. However, despite your pragmatism, someone says that you have abilities I could use. Abilities that can be used against The Syndicate." The metal man said, leaning down further and untying her bonds. Kinzie slowly got up and rubbed her wrists, looking up at the overlord in wonderment and surprise. A pregnant pause hung in the air before the overlord spoke again. "If you want to take down The Syndicate, join me. I will assume that you will agree to help me if you accept my offer to take you to shore first."

Kinzie was still very much dumbfounded at this point, but she knew what her answer was.

* * *

"You know about the next person I'm rescuing? What was his name? Zimmer, or something?" Carlon replied, getting off of the buat, followed by his minions.

"Well, the DeWynters are keeping Zimos at Safeword." Kinzie replied.

When Carlon had anchored the boat he commandeered to the nearest pier, he turned to Kinzie that was petting at one of his minions, gently tugging at one of its ears. "Excuse me?" Carlon said incredulously.

Kinzie patted the minion's head before properly explaining to Carlon. "The DeWynters are the twin sisters that run the prostitution in Steelport. Zimos was their competition, so the sisters locked him up. And Safeword is just a BDSM club that caters to acts of perversion. The name comes from wh-"

"Okay, I'll have to stop you there. I'd rather have my minions focused rather than getting distracted on a mission." Carlon said.

"Well... Okay. I'll tell you my safeword later." Kinzie said, looking downtrodden.

 _"Master. I know it's not any of my business, but could you ask her what her safeword is? For... Uh... Completely scientific reasons?"_ Gnarl pleaded.

Carlon made a fist with his left hand and banged the side of his helmet, making Gnarl screech as a result. The ringing noise pained Carlon's ears, but it also had the effect of hurting Gnarl's ears too. Kinzie stared at Carlon curiously. "... Did you just tried to swat at a bee and hit your head on accident?"

"No." Carlon groaned, speaking slightly louder than usual. "My adviser was just pestering me for something."

Kinzie's eyes grew slightly wider. "The overlord of Stilwater has an adviser. Is he talking to you through your helmet radio?"

"More like a magic radio." Carlon explained.

"There is no such thing as magic." Kinzie replied.

"Explain why my minions exist then." Carlon countered.

Kinzie paused for several seconds before she could answer. "... I'll get back to you on that."

Carlon sighed and turned to his minions. "...Alright. I need my greens front and center." Carlon said, holding up his left gauntlet to his horde. Green minions stood in front of the minion horde of twenty two. "Guard Kinzie. If she moves, you move with her. Coot's squad is going to join you to take her to the netherworld tower, and you may return with her. She is NOT to be harmed. Gnarl. Get Mud's squad and get the delivery in place."

 _"As you command, my lord!"_

The greens looked at each other for a split second before facing their master and nodded, looking crestfallen with their new task. Kinzie decided to interrupt, her eyes wide with manic surprise. "Wait. Netherworld? THE netherworld? The one that is located under Stilwater city?"

Carlon turned to Kinzie and shook his head. "Don't sound so distressed. You are to be treated as one of my guests. Gnarl will see to that."

"Your adviser, I assume?"

"You'll know when you see him. Later." Carlon said, turning away and placing his left hand onto the side of his helm. "Gnarl. Is Mud's squad in place?"

 _"The second group is currently standing by, my lord. Ow. My ears."_ Gnarl complained.

Carlon nodded and proceeded to his mission, while Kinzie waited with the greens that were now her personal bodyguards. She refrained from touching them since they smelled so awful.

* * *

In a darkened dungeon, many other men and women stood next to one another in silent vigil. Many of them payed good money to be here, being nothing more but toys to their masters amusement, pulling them around willingly and braying mightily when it suited their fantasies. Such fetishes were hard to imagine as pleasurable by others of uncorrupted views, but the DeWynter sisters had jumped to the opportunity and used such a deprived means of travel and made a buck of it. In this part of town owned by the DeWynter sisters, sex is business.

But some of the 'ponies' down here in the pony barn was not there of his or her own consent. One in particular was called Zimos, whose pride has been broken by the DeWynter sisters, and is the oldest pimp in the city of Steelport. But now... He pulls around a pony cart for the benefit of others. He wore leather straps and two ball straps on his mouth and neck. At least he was thankful about keeping his pimp hat with this degrading getup.

Gunfire and yelling broke the silence of the pony barn in the basement. The other men and women looked at one another in confusion, but some had masks that prevented them from seeing and simply stood where they are and listened intently.

When short, goblinoid creatures entered the basement, followed by a tall, armored man in evil looking armor, many of the 'ponies' backed away and held their breath.

"What this place?" "I dunno." "Is this are where the pony barn is?" "I no see ponies though. Just humies." "Aw! I wanted to play with ponies." "We find ponies later. We need find Zimos." "That are funny name. Think he be here with these humies?"

A booming voice broke the chatter of the smaller monsters, emanating from the armored man with glowing eyes. "Step forward if your name is Zimos! If I find out you're lying, I'll break your legs." Zimos was hesitant, but he didn't want his legs to be broken. He took a few tentative steps forward, uncertain if this man really would break the legs of the other 'ponies' here, or break his own if he decided to not step forward and lie. The armored man looked his way and he could feel his silvery eyes judging him. Zimos recognized this armored man as the infamous Overlord of Stilwater. The overlord strode forward to Zimos and looked at him up and down. "... Shit. I think I'll be doing you a favor getting you out of here."

Zimos exhaled in relief. He didn't know that the knight in shining armor that would save him would be this evil asshole. But at least it was an asshole that seemed sympathetic to his current burden.

"They went this way!"

Carlon turned his head and sighed. "Grah. I could do with a few good greens right about now. Browns, go and play with the people following us! Reds, you're hanging on the back of that cart! Blues, you're helping with pulling the cart!"

Carlon walked behind Zimos and sat on the pony cart he was tied to, while the blue skinned goblins surrounded Zimos. Were they really assisting him? "HMnnnf?" A blue minion looked up at him and grinned a sharp-toothed, but friendly, smile.

"Sorry about this, Zimos, but you'll have to pull me and my minions out of here. Andale!"

"Mmmmmmn!" Zimos whinnied and complained. If he had to do this embarrassing act one more time as a means to earn his freedom, he would gladly do so. But the added weight of an armored man and the several red imps on the cart proved to be a bitch to pull around. But at least the 'blues' as the overlord called them, made things easier, despite how weak they looked, with the obscene pink lighting outside lighting their way.

And it was thanks to a plan that Carlon had thought up to make good on their escape.

A nearby semi-truck had been parked at the front of the BDSM establishment. The Peterliner, unknown to the Morningstar, was actually commandeered by a select group of minions that was ferrying special cargo with them.

Once Carlon made his escape out of the building with the help of Zimos and the blue minions, they were quickly set upon by Morningstar guards patrolling outside the front gate of Safeword. In fact, some of the Morningstar guards managed to get on two pony carts to chase after their intruders! Carlon cursed under his breath since he knew he wasted nearly all of his ammo and magic when fighting on the barge and in this depraved building. "Mastah! I found a shooty thingy! Can I breaks it?" A blue minion said, holding up a K-8 Krukov in his wet claws.

After a quick glance, he noticed that the blue minion found that weapon in a side compartment he didn't see before. After another perusal of that hidden side compartment... "Oh fuck yes." Carlon quickly snatched the Krukov from the blue and started aiming the new weapon at the forces wanting to stop his abscond. "GNARL! SIGNAL MUD NOW!" A split second later and the semi-truck's trailer door erupted open with a flock of minions! They looked around wildly before they spotted their master and ran after him, their small legs barely able to keep up. "MINIONS! FOCUS ON THAT CART!" Carlon yelled, pointing at one of the pony carts that was chasing him. The minions amassed their numbers and flung at the opportunity,swarming and overwhelming Carlon's pursuers. Carlon opted to aim at the other pony cart and shoot off the Morningstar pursuers that chased after him.

 _"Hahaha, well done my lord!"_ Gnarl praised. _"Now that you are sufficiently away from that sinful palace of pleasure, perhaps we can now un-strap the ball straps from this, eh... strapping lad?"_

"Here's good to stop, Zimos." Carlon said. Zimos replied by going to the curb and parking himself there. Once they were stopped, the blues and reds with Zimos and Carlon and the backup horde surrounded them, whilst Carlon had relieved Zimos from his purpose of being a pony cart puller. Once Zimos began undoing the ball straps on his mouth and... throat hole? ... Zimos turned around and pilfered into the pony cart's side compartment. Carlon decided to break the silence again. "... You uh... Looking for something?"

Zimos got out a silver cane with a microphone on the top and held it next to his throat. "I'm just getting my voice box~. I need it in order to talk~."

Carlon raised his eyebrow. An auto-tune voice box? "... Huh."

"This is a rescue, right~? Because this is too weird to be an elaborate set up for a gang bang~." Zimos said, making sure to keep his distance from the minions.

Carlon scoffed. _"I think the minions would prefer a more female creature for such an activity. And speaking of females, Kinzie is currently with us."_ Gnarl chuckled.

 _"Wow! You look at the overlord like this all the time? Kinda feels like I'm looking in the perspective of a third person shooter."_

Zimos stepped forward. "I'll go with rescue then~. I'd shake your hand, but these floors are a little sticky if you know what I'm sayin'~."

Carlon nodded. "I'll uh... Be sure to point you to where some moist towlets can be sold. But not right now. I'll need to talk to some people." Zimos nodded and backed away, whilst Carlon placed his left hand on the side of his helmet again. "Kinzie. I can hear you, so don't think about talking ill of me."

 _"Oh! No, I wasn't planning that. At least not with your uh... adviser in earshot."_ Kinzie said.

 _"Don't be a devious minx, my dear. We're all newly acquainted friends here!"_ Gnarl replied.

 _"Not done talking, scrotum-face. Anyway, forgot to say thanks for freeing me."_

Carlon sighed softly. "About damn time. And uh... You're welcome."

 _"I took some time to find another person to help you. His name is Angel De LaMuerte, he was Killbane's tag team partner until he went crazy."_

"... Which one?" Carlon asked.

 _"I should probably look into that. The point is: Angel hates Killbane more than you do... He should be willing to help."_

"What's Angel's location?" Carlon asked, wondering who this Angel person is.

 _"That's the tricky part... The Luchadores are attacking him at the gym right now, you should probably hurry before he gets killed."_

"By the abyss. I have to start going there now!"

 _"That's your fault for asking too many questions. I'd hurry up, you're on the clock."_

"Gnarl. Contact Mud to bring the Peterliner around. We're gonna need it."

Gnarl took his turn to talk. _"At once, sire. Mud! Have Bill drive to the masters position! He is in need of the semi-truck. M-hmm. Good. Sire, the truck is now coming to your position within a minute."_

Carlon nodded and turned around to face Zimos. "Perhaps those towlets can wait for a bit. Want to help me kill some Luchadores?"

"Thanks playa~. I'll help you as a token of appreciation for bustin' me out~." Zimos said, nodding his head and smiling grandly.

"Great to know. But uh... please remember: Towlets after."

The semi-truck that had the trailer full of minions bust out of it came round the corner and came to a stop in front of Carlon, Zimos, and the minions. A window rolled down to reveal a minion with a riot helmet with a purple flag with a red cross on top of it. "Master! Mud and Bill is here!"

"Vacate the truck, I'm driving." Carlon said, jutting his thumb for the minions in the vehicle to get out. Carlon turned to his horde, of which now consisted of... twenty browns, fifteen reds, ten greens and seventeen blues. A total of sixty two minions. "Five of the weakest reds and seven of the weakest blues, return to the netherworld tower. Zimos. Get in. Were going to a gym."

Zimos raised an eyebrow. "Hmm~. Maybe I can get a shower there~."

* * *

Two men struggled with one another within a dilapidated building. Several workout equipment lay around this place, suffering from years of rust and neglect. There were several spots in the ceiling where rain would leak through, the smell of molding now already scenting the air with decay. But the main focus was of the two men fighting with one another.

One man was wearing a Luchadore mask, and was wrestling a man in black wrestling tights that are torn, yellow combat boots, and a hoodie with a gym emblem on it. The man wearing the hoodie was overwhelming the Luchadore, and had flung his opponent by using his legs. He turned around quickly to find that his opponent stopped moving, and he assumed that he had one this battle.

But the war against his most hated enemy, his once-been tag partner named Killbane, was far from over.

Footsteps echoed within the dilapidated gym. This had prompted the victor to turn and investigate the new sounds that were approaching him. He turned to see four unusual sights. From descending order of greatest to least in surprising was a brute that was wearing the suit. Next was the man in wicked looking armor, which had silvery glowing eyes. Then there was the midget sized goblins that seemed to follow the armored man around. And lastly was the gimp carrying around a silver microphone cane. He stared at the suited brute. "You're not one of Loren's brutes."

 _"Oh how droll. Way to go, pointing out the obvious!"_ Gnarl hissed.

Oleg decided to return the comment, pointing at the one they assumed was Angel. "And you're not one of Killbane's Luchadores..."

The screeching sound of cars stopping in the distance broke the awkward silence. Carlon sighed as he brought out his Krukov. "We can address the elephants in the room later. Oleg, I thank you for joining us in fighting those Luchadores and that brute outside. Want to stick around?"

"Might as well." Oleg replied, cracking his knuckles and getting into a combative stance. As the wrestler, pimp, giant, and overlord with his minion horde prepared for the worst to come, a brute in a tank top appeared from the entrance into the gym. Once it saw its targets near the wrestling ring, the simple-minded ogre of a man made a determined charge towards them. Oleg stepped forward and started charging at the brute. "Leave this impostor to me."

Zimos decided to voice his opinion as he began firing on the Luchadores that was filtering into the building. "What, that means everyone else is on us~?"

Carlon shrugged his shoulders and strode forward. "Minions. Wait here." The Luchadores noticed the armored man that was coming toward him and immediately fired upon his person. An aura surrounded him as he approached, which seemed to reduce the damage he received from his attackers. One the overlord was in range, he then summoned forth another spell, which seared the flesh of the Luchadores in quick fashion, killing them within seconds as they combusted. Once he was sure that the foes in the entryway was dealt with, Carlon turned and walked back to the ruined wrestling ring.

Despite the agape amazement that Zimos was experiencing, something more urgent gained his attention. "What the fuck is that guy carrying~?!" Zimos shouted as he redirected his aim to shoot at a different target.

Carlon heard Zimos' exclaimed question and decided to walk to him to see what he was referring to. Carlon gritted his teeth when he saw it. "Abyss! Mini-gun brute above us!"

The brute swiveled his mini-gun over the balcony and unloaded his weapon to his enemies on the lower floor, and started laughing maniacally and insanely. He bellowed as he continued his onslaught to his foes, his lead raining down on everyone. "You are so small! It's funny to me!"

Carlon ducked away under the balcony and waited out the storm of bullets. This was the absolute worst situation that he had ever got himself in! Even if Carlon decided to turn on his sanctuary spell and approach the mini-gun toting brute, he would be severely wounded from the brash attack as he calculated that the damage would deal a savage blow to his mana supply. Not only that, the brute has the altitude advantage, which would take Carlon longer to figure out a way to get up to him! For once, Carlon felt as though his magic was finally trumped by technology. With no way to get up to the brute, all Carlon could do was fire potshots and hope that his cover holds. Of course, he had been in worse spots than this, but that was when he had a netherworld gate to draw strength from.

The brute then did something completely stupid. He jumped off of the balcony and landed a floor down. On the floor Carlon and his allies were on. Carlon gave the brute three seconds of deadpan staring before summoning his slow spell. "MINIONS! ATTACK!"

The minions Carlon was keeping out of the mini-gun brute's range was now in getting closer so that their melee would be in range, but the brute was now too slow to quickly counterattack his new problem. The brown minions savagely struck the stupid brute at his arms and knees, the greens aiming at his neck and face with as much determination that they could muster, while the reds tossed and pitched their fire from a safe distance and the blues... they helped. After ten seconds of sustained combat, the minions finally took down the monster down to size. One of such minions held up a metal shoulder pad and decided that it was going to be his new hat.

Zimos sighed in relief as he slowly emerged from the cover of what looked to be some sort of... fat burning machine? Or was it a slot machine? Carlon was not sure if this gym in particular was actually a gym. Zimos spoke during the chaos. "You gonna pick up that fuckin' gun, or what~?"

"It's a bit big for me."

Suddenly, two brutes came into the main chamber from behind them. Angel decided to bark out his piece during the firefight. "Be careful, they have flamethrowers!"

"... But then again, there's a first time for everything!" Carlon said, reaching down for the mini-gun and heaving it's impressive weight up. After figuring out where the firing triggers were located, Carlon fired off a few rounds to test its power before giving orders to his minions. "ATTACK THAT BRUTE NOW!" After seeing his minions rushing toward one of the brutes with ecstatic glee, Carlon aimed the massive death machine to the other flamer brute and unleashed hell. "HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!" As the minions and Zimos focused on one flamer brute, Carlon, Angel and Oleg focused on the other. The fuel tank of the brute that Carlon was currently fighting ended up exploding, killing the brute in the process. The minions and Zimos focused on their target, eventually downing the frightening enemy seconds later. "-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!" Carlon was still firing his mini-gun at the flamer brute's corpse, even when it was already dead.

"Overlord, stop!" Oleg shouted amidst the cacophonous rapid fire of Carlon's mini-gun. "He's dead!"

"-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaahhhhhhh... Holy fucking shit, I think I have a new favorite weapon." Carlon said, the ammo for the weapon already depleted.

Carlon dropped the mini-gun and felt his fingers tremble with numbness and twitching sensations. He finally took a breath and exhaled slowly. _"Uh oh. He looks like a kid in a candy emporium all of a sudden."_ Kinzie teased.

 _"Oh hush you."_ Gnarl reprimanded. _"Return to the netherworld, sire. I believe everyone is in need of some recuperation."_

Carlon nodded, turning away and leaving the spent mini-gun. "Right. Oleg, Zimos, Angel! We're leaving!"

* * *

A tall, muscled man in a black shirt and a luchadore mask paced behind three people. His anger reverberated through the air, despite the face that much of his face was hidden by a mask. Kiki, Viola and Matt sat in solemn silence as Killbane fumed. The silence was soon broken by his furiously voiced announcement. "Well, ladies and gentlemen. Phillipe is dead and we are at a crossroads. And the question is: who will lead The Syndicate to a new era?"

Matt Miller decided to voice his opinion. "Viola and Kiki were Mr. Loren's right hands. Shouldn't they be the one's who-"

He was rewarded with a chair in the face. Killbane straightened his tie after punishing the black lipsticked leader of the Deckers. "I had someone else in mind."

"Excuse me?" One of the DeWynter sisters exclaimed, who wore white glasses.

"THE BARBARIANS ARE AT THE GATE! WE NEED A GENERAL, NOT AN AMBASSADOR!" Killbane roared at the offending DeWynter sister.

"Calm down, Eddie..." The pink glassed girl calmly replied.

Killbane turned around and narrowed his eyes at the other sister. "... What did you call me?"

"... What'd you like us to do, Killbane?" Said the white glassed sister.

"Something. Anything! Before I wonder why I keep you bookends around. I'm going to set up an attack. Come up with a plan before I return." Killbane growled, hitting the table aggressively and leaving the room right after.

The DeWynter sisters wanted to bring up the topic concerning the overlord's stolen treasures, but they were too intimidated by Killbane's anger that they had forgotten to brought it up completely.

* * *

 **A/N: Decided to forgo the bridge battle. Gotta keep in mind of all the paradoxes that are floating around in this story! Anyway, with the short break over, I think I'll return to this story for a time. :3**


End file.
